


The Placebo Effect- A Lovesick Keith Prequel

by i_write_shakespeare_not_disney



Series: Lovesick [7]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Foster Kid Keith (Voltron), M/M, Trauma, dubcon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:40:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27050575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_write_shakespeare_not_disney/pseuds/i_write_shakespeare_not_disney
Summary: Ever wonder what all happened in Keith's past before he met Lance in the Lovesick series? Well, now you get your answer.
Relationships: Keith (Voltron)/Original Male Character(s), Keith/Rolo (Voltron)
Series: Lovesick [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1198486
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	The Placebo Effect- A Lovesick Keith Prequel

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! So this is hereeeee. 
> 
> As you can assume if you've read Lovesick, there is a lot of pain in this story. I had to go into Keith's mind as a fifteen year old, and it was... mentally and emotionally exhausting to write. This is a long first chapter, and so I beg you, as a reader, take it slowly. Stop reading when you need to. There are... so mamy triggers in this and I don't even know how to fully tag them. This took me a little over a year to write because I kept having to turn away from the mindset this was in and would leave it alone for months at a time. My point is.... this is heavy. Keith's backstory is heavy. It was heavy when he explained, and this just dives into it from his perspective, so it's heavier. That being said, please know that I, a 22-year-old, DO NOT agree with a lot of what is said in this chapter from certain characters. There is a lot that is just plain wrong that will be cast in a somewhat positive light here, but because this is a fifteen year old's perspective. 
> 
> I also understand if you choose not to read this. It's not essential to the Lovesick universe, but I did have several people who wanted to know this story. So here it is. 
> 
> I also want to give a HUGE thank you to its-me-that-writes for being a fantastic beta-reader and helping me push my craft and encouraging me with this for the past year and so many months. 
> 
> Be kind to yourselves with this one. <3 -Phoenix

_ 2011 _

The house looked nicer than most of the previous ones. That said a lot, because Lydia only approved of families with a decent amount of money to house him. It was the best way she could look out for him.

The woman was small, her hair curled inward at her shoulders. The man was slightly taller, with salt and pepper hair and a neatly trimmed beard. Their son- Keith’s foster brother- was taller than them both. He had the same haircut as his dad, but it was jet black, and despite his size, he seemed friendly. 

Keith grabbed his suitcase a little tighter, another small token of how Lydia looked out for him over the years. 

“Hi, Keith,” the woman said. His foster mom. His eighth foster mom. “I’m Aiko. You can call me that, or you can call me Mama.” Keith stared at her, a million questions running through his head. She had a grown, healthy son of her own. What did she want Keith for? How long would she want him? 

His lack of response made her look at her husband nervously. 

He stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. “My name is Makoto.” Keith continued to stare. “Would you like to see your room?” Keith resisted the urge to roll his eyes. No, he didn’t want to see his room; he planned on sleeping on his suitcase in the living room. These questions were inane, redundant. A stupid formality. 

“Takashi? Maybe you should show him,” Aiko said. Very Asian names… and here was Keith, with the name Keith. As if the universe had to remind him he stuck out. 

The boy nodded and gave Keith a smile. “Come on, Keith.” 

Keith took a deep breath and followed Taka-ka whatever. They went up the stairs, Keith hauling his luggage up each step, ignoring Taka’s offer to help. It wasn’t Keith’s first time tugging the stupid suitcase around, and it definitely wasn’t heavy. They went down one hallway as the guy kept pointing to places. The game room, the study, the second living room \-  because people needed those, especially a family of three- and a bathroom. Then he opened a door and gestured inside. 

“Here’s your room. We asked Lydia what you liked and tried to make it feel a little less… brand new. But if you don’t like something, you can take it down. Or just let Mama know, and we can exchange it.” 

Keith looked around the room. Posters of some punk bands were taped to the walls causing him to resist groaning. A dark red and black comforter was on the bed, covered by a million neatly arranged pillows. A desk and a laptop were in one corner of the room. A television hung on the wall. Heavy curtains blocked the light from the two windows. A dresser was set next to the closet. Keith nudged the closet door open. Empty. 

“We weren’t sure what kind of clothes you liked or what you already had. But we’re gonna go shopping tomorrow. That way you can check out the mall too. Have you been?” Keith didn’t answer. It was a big city, and the last two foster homes he’d had were there. Just not in this area. “Are you usually this quiet, or do you just not want to talk?” Keith nudged his suitcase into the closet. “Well, we’re having dinner soon. Papa makes really good ribs on the grill. I think you’ll like them.” When Keith refused to answer, he nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Well…. I’m Takashi. Or Shiro. Most people call me Shiro, but you can call me either, since we’re brothers now.” Keith tried not to wince, but his face still twitched. “Your name  _ is  _ Keith, right?” Keith moved to lay down on the bed. “Yeah. I guess you’re tired. Well… rest up. I’ll come get you when the food is ready.” 

The door shut softly. Keith waited for the steps to recede before he got up. He started with the posters on the walls. He did  _ not  _ like those bands, the ones with guys who wore way too much makeup and had hair that managed to spike downward and… ugh. He rolled the posters up and put them in a corner, then he tossed most of the pillows into the closet. The ones with fancy embroidery weren’t going to be comfortable to sleep with, so what was the point in having them on the bed? 

Then, since he was there, he opened his suitcase and hung up what he had. A handful of shirts and a few jeans, all faded in color. He used the first drawer for underwear and socks, and left the rest empty. And that was that- unpacked in less than five minutes.

All he had left was less than half a stick of deodorant, a toothbrush, and his blanket. A stupid little thing. Faded yellow, with cartoonish purple hippos. Still, Keith took it to the bed to lay down and held it to his chest. As he fell asleep, he wondered how long it would be until something came up for this family and they sent him away. 

He woke up to the sound of Shiro opening the door. He gasped and clung to the blanket as he sat up and tried to remember where he was. 

“Hey, it’s just me. Dinner’s just about ready.” Shiro furrowed his eyebrows and stepped closer. “Are those hippos?” Keith balled the blanket up and stuffed it under a pillow. “How long have you had that?” Again, Keith remained speechless. “Well… let’s get you fed, Hippo.” 

Keith scowled and got out of bed, shoving past Shiro. This house was too pristine. Too perfect. Too… too much. He knew Lydia meant well by getting him the best families, the ones who were nice and had money, but… it didn’t feel right to Keith. Especially since the rich ones were always the most conservative. He felt like his existence contrasted against these lives. 

Downstairs, the Shiroganes were setting food out on the table along with drinks. Aiko smiled as they came down.

“How was your nap, hon?” Keith looked away and at the food, willing his stomach not to growl. “Come sit down. We’ve got lots of sides for you to choose from.” 

Keith walked over and grabbed a plate, trying not to seem too excited about eating. He hadn’t eaten all day, but he didn’t want them getting any ideas just because he wanted to fill his stomach. 

Makoto placed a hand on his shoulder, and he immediately shrank away from it. He stared at his plate and clenched his teeth. He didn’t want their affection. Didn’t want their touch. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

Keith didn’t respond. He sat down and started eating. 

It was no secret that he was making things highly uncomfortable. The room was quiet, like they weren’t sure how to hold a conversation that didn’t include him, especially since he wouldn’t answer them. The only sounds were that of forks against plates and the clink of the cups against the table. 

He felt bad. He wasn’t heartless. He was sure the Shiroganes were nice people, especially with the stuff they gave him in his room, but…. He didn’t want to go through the pleasantries again. He was tired. He didn’t want to build a relationship with them, he didn’t want to be excited to know them. Not when he knew in his bones that he would just get passed along to the next family after a while. 

He only had to hold out for another four years. Then he would stop being tossed around like a hot potato. Stupid freaking potatoes. 

Once there was no more food on their plates, Aiko and Makoto took each other’s hand over the table. “Keith, we know this is a big change. Lydia told us how often you’ve changed foster homes,” Aiko said. “We want you to feel comfortable here. This is your home now. I know it’ll take you time to get used to it, and we’re going to be patient.” 

“Take all the time you need,” Makoto added. “Whenever you’re ready to talk to us, we’ll be here.” 

Keith supposed they hadn’t banked on how long he could go without talking when they said that.

They’d gone shopping for clothes during Thanksgiving break, taking advantage of Black Friday sales. Maybe they thought taking him to look for clothes would give him a reason to talk. But Keith was a simple person and all he had to do was toss a few medium sized black and gray shirts into the cart and the first pair of shoes that caught his eye before he drew back into himself. Even at the insistence of going into more expensive stores like Express, Keith followed, but never picked anything. 

Oddly enough, Aiko never tried to force him to wear anything like one of his previous foster moms had done. She would put Keith into clothes  _ she  _ liked for him even if Keith hated them. Aiko simply pointed clothes out and waited for something to pique Keith’s interest. 

They returned home rather quickly, to Keith’s relief.

That same weekend, Shiro had convinced him to go out with his senior friends to see a movie and play at an arcade. Keith tagged along because sitting in his room was starting to drive him nuts; but even then, he wouldn’t talk, and he knew Shiro’s friends were a little weirded out by him. 

The Shiroganes enrolled him in the local high school. Keith figured he was lucky his second foster mom had been so anal about learning, because it kept him ahead and he managed to get into advanced classes. Despite having a late birthday in the school year, he was still able to go to 9th grade at fourteen, and having missed most of the first semester hadn’t affected him too much. At least according to the placement test they gave him to determine his classes. 

By the Monday after Thanksgiving break, Keith was being escorted by Shiro into their high school. It was the biggest school Keith had been to. Which meant people didn’t stare as much. 

“I made you a map over the weekend,” Shiro said. He handed Keith a paper with a sketch of the school, each hall a different color and labeled with the subject it was dedicated to. “I figured you don’t want your big brother holding your hand throughout the day, so…. You can find your way, right? If you  _ do  _ need me, I can walk you through it.” Keith pulled his schedule out and simply waved the two papers at Shiro before walking away. 

Big brother. Yeah right. 

He sighed to himself and followed the map and the numbers along the hallways to find his first class. Of course, his day would start with a class as awful as world geography. 

Luckily, the teachers didn’t ask Keith to stand up in front of the class and introduce himself. He was able to just sit in the empty seat- usually the one right in front of the AC and near the board- and stay quiet. 

It wasn’t until he went to class after lunch that anything particularly interesting happened. 

Somehow, he’d gotten stuck in theatre for one of his electives. He figured it was the student dump because no one there seemed particularly interested in acting or anything related to it. He sat in the chair furthest to the back and stared at the words carved into the desk while music played through his earphones. He wasn’t supposed to use his phone, but the teacher wasn’t paying attention to them anyway. 

People were lounging around on a couch, in a side room, grouping desks together. So even though Keith sensed someone near him, he hadn’t paid much attention until they spoke. 

“I haven’t seen you around here before.” A smooth, alluring voice grabbed his attention and put him on alert.

Keith glanced up and stared at the person talking. A tall guy with short, tousled dark hair and dark eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week but it worked for him. He looked back down at his desk, not wanting to deal with people who wanted to tease the new kid or go out of their way to pretend to be a good person. 

“When did you move here?” Keith sighed and leaned his cheek against his palm as he looked up at the guy with indifference. Undeterred, he grabbed a chair and dragged it to sit on the other side of Keith’s desk. “Did you choose theatre for an elective? Sorry for the disappointment, but this is where they send the kids with nothing better to do.” He gestured toward the scattered groups. “This is the class period where girls dab on their makeup and hook up with their boyfriends in the costume room, and guys use what’s left of their brains to make paper airplanes.” Keith raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem to fit those types though.” The guy tilted his head, noticing the earbud hidden under Keith’s shirt. “What are you listening to? Mayday Parade? BVB? Oh, for sure, MCR.” Keith made a face, a mix between offended and annoyed. “Okay, so no. Can I hear?” Keith sighed and tugged his earphone out a bit more. He handed it over to the guy who grabbed it and leaned in closer to listen. “Huh. Eminem. This is one of the few songs by him I like. Nate Ruess gives it a nice touch. Didn’t take you for a rap kind of guy.” Keith smirked a bit a bit and took his earphone back. “You got a name?” 

“No, I’ve gone all my life without one.” 

The guy smiled and laughed. “Oh, so you  _ do  _ talk. Good to know.” Keith cleared his throat. He sang along to music at night when he knew no one would be looking for him. He’d spoken occasionally throughout the day. Talking now still made his voice sound weird to himself. Raspier than usual and unused. “Well, don’t stop there. What’s your name?” 

“Keith.” 

“Keith.” Something about the way he said it made Keith nervous. He dragged it out, and made a point about the placement of his tongue when pronouncing the end. His mouth pulled up into a cocky smirk. “Nice to meet you, Keith. I’m Dylan.” Keith nodded. “How’s your first day been?” 

“Like all the others.” The smile that tugged on Dylan’s lips made Keith shift in his seat. His lips were plump and… he was staring. Keith looked away immediately, but something about the gleam in Dylan’s eyes told Keith he was purposefully trying to fluster him. That frustrated him. He narrowed his eyes and set his jaw. He glanced at the clock and saw there were only five minutes left of class. Five minutes he could spend in the bathroom instead of here, on the verge of being humiliated by this cocky piece of crap. “Bye, Dyl.” He stood up and walked toward the door. 

“Wha- wait, where are you going?” he called. Keith smiled to himself, satisfied. 

When he got home, the Shiroganes asked how his first day had gone. Keith hated the question. School was never good or great, and first days were always the same. He just hurried up the stairs to his room and threw his backpack into the corner. 

The days were repeats of themselves. The only change was that on Wednesday one girl tried to offer to tutor Keith for the upcoming benchmark exams, biting her lip obnoxiously and playing with her hair idly. Keith had simply taken a deep breath and let it out in exasperation before saying, “Girls aren’t my type.” Then he walked away. On Thursday there was a pep rally. And on Friday, he had tests in three classes. 

He’d started seeing Dylan among the crowd throughout the days, too. He stuck out because he was always with a group of two or more other guys, flanking him like he was a leader of a cult. Every time Keith saw him, those dark eyes would flicker over and he’d smile. Keith wasn’t sure why he felt a gut instinct to stay away, but he listened to it. He never returned the smiles, and he never looked at him again, no matter how much his eyes were drawn to him. 

At least until the week before Christmas break. 

Dylan pulled a chair up to Keith’s desk in theatre, cologne wafting from him and smiling widely. 

“You wanna see the winter play with me?” Keith looked up from his phone without moving his head and raised an eyebrow. “Like a date,” Dylan clarified. Keith raised his head and let out a tired sigh, eyes narrowing. “Little birdy told me girls aren’t your thing, so… I figured I’d give it a shot.” 

“And what makes you think I’d want to go on a date with you?” 

The smile turned wolfish, those dark, predatory eyes taking Keith in. “The way you try so hard to avoid me.” 

“Wow, yeah, my refusal to talk to you means I want you in my pants. Guys like you are the reason we all get branded as misogynists.” 

“Whoa, easy tiger.” Keith nearly growled. “Ooh. Fiery. More like a dragon than a tiger, aren’t you?” 

Keith stood up, hoping to sit on the stage for some peace and quiet if he wasn’t going to get it in the classroom. Dylan got up and called after him, but Keith ignored him. As he passed the side room- which he’d since learned was called a green room- people stared. He ignored them too. 

He had just made it behind a side curtain on the stage when a hand wrapped around his wrist and tugged him back. 

“Hey, okay, I’m sorry,” Dylan said, his voice softer. Keith scowled. “Look, I just… don’t know how to talk to you. But I want to. Look, it doesn’t have to be a date, it can just be us hanging out. Maybe then I’ll be worthy of a date to you. Give me a chance to redeem myself.” Keith pulled his hand back and crossed his arms. “Please. And if you still don’t want anything to do with me, I’ll leave you alone. For good. I promise.” 

Keith sighed and slowly uncrossed his arms. “You’ve got one shot, and you’re gonna drag me back here for a play?” 

The smile was back. “Well… we could do something else. I could take you to see the city. Go to a riverwalk… around downtown… a park. Anything you’d like to do.” 

Keith bit his lip and huffed. “I’ll meet you here at the time the play starts. I need to look up where I wanna go.” Dylan smiled and nodded, and suddenly his eyes seemed kinder. 

That evening, Keith’s only problem was getting out of the house without having to explain why. He knew Shiro had told the Shiroganes that he wasn’t exactly making friends at school, so he couldn’t say he was going to hang out with any of them. And he really didn’t want them to know about Dylan. 

He’d paced around his room until Shiro came up and knocked. 

“Hey. Mom and Dad went to a company dinner, so it’s just us for a while. Did you want to watch a movie? Maybe go get some burgers?” 

That was too perfect. Except for the fact that Shiro was still going to be at the house. Keith turned away toward his bed, managing a light shake of his head. 

“Okay…. Well, I’ll be in my room if you do get hungry, okay, Hippo?” 

Okay. The use of that stupid nickname erased all guilt Keith had started feeling. He pulled back the covers, refusing to acknowledge Shiro anymore as he got into bed. There was no other response except for the door closing softly. Keith waited for the steps to disappear then got out of bed. He didn’t think the trick would ever work in real life, but maybe his relationship with Shiro was still awkward and distant enough that Shiro wouldn’t actually check. 

He grabbed the pillows he’d stuffed in the closet and put them under the covers, trying his best to arrange them in the form of a person. He placed one of the pillows he’d kept on the bed in a position to mostly block the view of anyone who came in. Then he let his hippo blanket peek out slightly. 

He tugged on his shoes and pushed his window open. There was no way he could climb down from there without a ladder. He knew Makoto kept one on the other side of the house, so it would be easy to come back in, but getting out…. Well, Keith would have to hope Shiro really was staying in his room. 

He kicked his shoes back off and slowly opened the door. The good thing about fancy people’s homes? No creaky hinges. He shut the door again and dashed down the hall, his eyes on the other end in case Shiro decided to come out. There was music coming from his room, a song Keith knew, but couldn’t stop to name because he had to get his ass down the stairs and out the door. 

It was simple enough until he reached the front door. Undoing the locks felt like it was exponentially louder than usual, and opening it had Keith sweating with anxiety. But once he was out, he didn’t bother being careful about closing it. As soon as the door shut, he was running across the driveway and down the street. The school was relatively close by bus, but it would be a hassle getting there on foot. At least Keith had some time before the play started anyway. 

When he reached the school, he was about ten minutes late. Dylan was sitting on the steps, his head leaning against one hand. Keith walked up to him, and he immediately perked up. 

“You came,” he said, his voice dripping with relief. 

“Don’t make me regret it.” Dylan stood up and faced him, teetering on his feet nervously. "So. I found this thing with an ice skating rink outside? It's supposed to look really nice around this time." 

"I know what you're talking about," Dylan said. "Come on." They fell in step with each other and Keith followed him to his car. He imagined the guy with a race car or a really expensive kind of car for some reason. But instead, he saw a little Chevy truck with the paint chipped near the tires. "Something tells me if I try to open the door for you, you'll kick me in the balls." 

Keith smirked and walked around to the passenger side, letting himself in. He heard Dylan's laugh and waited as he got in. He started the truck and pulled out of the school parking lot. 

"You can choose the music. I've got a plug, but also some CDs in the glove compartment." 

Keith opened the glove compartment and found a red CD holder. He started flipping through it, wordless as the night passed them by. He found an artist he was somewhat familiar with and put the CD in. 

"Daughtry? That's different from what I last knew you were listening to." 

"Music isn't exclusive." 

"Very true. So…. How are you liking living here? What brought you to the city?" 

"I've been in the city for a while. This is just my newest area." Dylan nodded and waited, but Keith wasn't divulging any more information. 

The ride was quiet except for the music. Keith looked out the window, ignoring when he felt Dylan's gaze on him. They ended up parking in an over priced garage, and it wasn't until they were out of the truck that Dylan spoke again. 

"Have you ever been ice skating before?" 

Keith shrugged. "Once. In a different city. There was a rink inside of a mall and we went in the summer." 

"So you move around a lot, huh?" Keith raised an eyebrow. Dylan chuckled as they stepped out onto the sidewalk, blending into the other people out for a December walk. "You gotta give me something, man." 

"My mystery is my charm." 

Dylan smirked. “You don’t really need to charm me anymore. Consider me smitten.” Keith had to stifle a laugh. Who used that word anymore? “Well… what about this. I can tell you something about me, and you can tell me something about you of equal or lesser magnitude.” Keith raised an eyebrow. “For example… I’ll tell you my favorite color is purple. So you tell me…?” 

Keith took a breath. “I like hot chocolate.” 

The response made Dylan chuckle. “This isn’t gonna be easy is it?” Keith shook his head, then broke away to stop at a stand that was offering warm drinks. Dylan followed after him, smiling in amusement. 

The little game continued while they walked toward the ice skating rink. It was filled with screaming, laughing, and crying children. They sat on a bench, exchanging trivial information. For every “favorite” Dylan told Keith, Keith started offering tidbits of things he hated instead.

“I… am an only child,” Dylan said.

Keith huffed. Family stuff. He shrugged. “I don’t have any pets.” 

“Okay…. Um. Well, my parents divorced when I was eight.” Keith frowned and looked over at him. This was a very different tone from their favorite video game and least favorite vegetable. Dylan nodded. “My mom was pregnant at the time. Which I remember. But… the distress from being cheated on and left alone with a little boy…. I didn’t really understand what happened, just that there wasn’t gonna be a little brother or sister anymore.”

“I’m so sorry….” 

“No, it’s okay. I mean-is that fucked up? It’s just that I wasn’t really attached because it was still new information and I didn’t know what losing it entailed. I didn’t know it meant death, I just thought  _ cool I’ll still be mom’s only kid.  _ It didn’t hurt. It sucks now. I’m older, and I know what happened. I just didn’t really… experience it. Does that make sense?” 

Keith bit his lip and looked out at the skating rink. "Yeah, actually." He hesitated. Keith knew he was a jerk sometimes, but he couldn’t respond with another minor fact after a revelation like that. "I… I'm a foster kid. I've been in 8 foster homes over the course of my life. I know my birth parents could be out there or dead, and it doesn't… hurt. I don't miss them. If I found out they were dead, I wouldn't care. What does hurt is just knowing they didn't want me. So yeah, I get it. When you don't really know what the fuck is going on, you just don't… feel anything toward it until you realize you're supposed to." 

"Ah. That's why you moved here." Keith nodded. "Are they nice to you? Your foster parents?" 

Keith grimaced and scoffed. "Hey, I gave my share of sad backstory. That's your limit on a first… outing." Dylan laughed and nodded, turning his empty cup in his hand. "Um. So why'd you trust me with that? You don't even know me." 

He didn't speak for a bit. Keith watched him, and Dylan stared at his hands. Then he shrugged and smiled. "Exactly. I want to get to know you. I figured it would be worth the risk." Keith's heart did a funny little thing. "And it was." 

Keith felt a smile stretch on his face. "Wow, you're good." 

Dylan sighed and chuckled softly. "I promise that wasn't supposed to be a line." 

"If that wasn't, then what is?" 

Dark eyes skimmed the skating rink before focusing on Keith again. "Well I can't think of a good one on the spot. You make me nervous." Keith raised an eyebrow. There was a sense of satisfaction in knowing he could make someone like Dylan nervous. Something alluring about his vulnerability in that moment. “Well, tell me how I’m doing at least…. Am I gonna be able to get an official date?” 

Keith hummed and tapped his fingers on his cup. “I don’t know yet.” Sure he was cute and a good talker and very persistent and kind of sweet, but…. But Keith had never been on a date before. He didn't know what to expect, what he liked, what to think…. At the moment it was just easier to pretend to have the upper hand. 

Dylan's confession made Keith's frigidity thaw a bit. He let himself smile a little more, stopped snapping at him as much. 

They had moved on to more games to get to know each other. Two truths and a lie, never have I ever, that kind of thing. Surprisingly, Keith found himself laughing a lot. They walked around the rink a few times because Keith just felt more comfortable with people around. They bought another hot chocolate. The distance between them slowly diminished until Keith didn't mind the occasional bump of Dylan's hand against his own or the brush of their shoulders or the closeness of his face when he looked over. 

"You got a curfew?" Dylan asked as they walked back toward the car. The rink and vendors were closing, resulting in an exodus of people hurrying to their cars. 

Keith thought back to the stack of pillows on his bed. He smirked and shook his head. "Nah." 

That one syllable created a tangible tension between them that festered more and more the longer they held their silence. This tension was different though. Expectant. It made Keith's limbs shake and his heart pound. There was heat coursing through his veins and the cold air was almost suffocating. 

The intensity of the feeling spiked when they reached the truck and Dylan didn't get in as expected, but continued toward the passenger’s side. It felt… dangerous…. And Keith loved it. 

He leaned against the door and looked at Dylan with a quirked eyebrow, expectant and playful despite the fact that he could  _ hear  _ his own heartbeat, could feel it thud in his fingertips. 

"So." Dylan's voice was low, a soft breath between them as he stepped closer. "What’s the verdict?" 

Keith kept his composure despite the way his body practically screamed at him to touch. He'd never had someone so close to him, never with this intent, never wanted it. "What are you gonna do if I say no?"

That dark, alluring gaze fell to his lips and stayed there. No pretense of looking back up and pretending he hadn't. "Then I'll just make the most I can of tonight…." 

Keith smirked and allowed himself to stare at Dylan's lips, wondering what they would feel like, what they would taste like, what they could make him feel. "In that case…. No."

A soft breath hit his face as Dylan chuckled, making Keith’s body heat spike. The following press of Dylan's lips on his was expected. What Keith hadn't expected was the gentleness of it. The way the pressure was barely there. His lips felt like they'd been burned but… in a good way. In a wonderful way. It turned Keith docile in an instant.

Dylan started to pull back slowly, but Keith didn’t want that. He liked the softness, the simpleness of that first kiss, but he didn’t know when he would get another and he wanted more. He leaned in, recapturing Dylan’s lips. Keith’s hands slid to his neck, keeping him in place. 

Those dark, earthy eyes settled on him, maybe trying to gauge what Keith’s limits were. Slowly, he tilted Keith’s head to the side and pressed his lips firmly against his throat. It was still chaste, still innocent, but it had Keith’s knees threatening to give out. He had never realized how intimate that spot could be until Dylan touched it. Never realized how sensitive his back could be until Dylan’s hands were on him, pulling him closer. 

It was embarrassing how quickly Keith’s breaths turned shallow. He tried to keep them quiet, but surely Dylan could feel his rapid heartbeat against his lips where they were pressed to his throat. 

Those soft lips skimmed up his neck until they were at the corner of his mouth. Without really thinking about it, Keith turned his face toward him, stifling a gasp when Dylan  _ really  _ kissed him - tongue invading his mouth, teeth scraping his lips, and his hand tilting Keith’s face up to really deepen it. The hand that was still at Keith’s back dug into him in a way Keith never thought he would like. But he craved it. He wanted more of it. He wanted that grip all over him. 

The second Keith let out a soft moan, Dylan pulled back, staring at him breathlessly, questioningly. 

“Keep going.” Keith meant for it to sound stronger, more certain. Instead he sounded meek and desperate. He didn’t know how being touched managed to reduce him to whatever he was at this moment. 

Dylan didn’t hold it against him, though. His thumb brushed against his cheek slowly. “Get in the back,” he murmured. Keith furrowed his eyebrows, before Dylan reached around him to open the door to the back seat of the truck. Noticing Keith’s apprehension, he asked, “Do you trust me?” 

With a clearer head, Keith was able to really consider that. “I don’t know yet.” 

Dylan chuckled and kissed the side of his neck again. “That’s fair. Let me take you home then-”

“No.” That time, his voice was firm. For one, he really didn’t feel like going back to a temporary life and a house full of fake smiles. For another, this was the first time anyone had kissed him, touched him in any intimate sort of way, and Keith was planning on getting as much out of this as he could. Not to say he wanted to go all the way, but… he definitely wanted more than a quick, heated kiss. “Come on.” 

He climbed into the backseat and sat near the window. He took the time to remove his jacket because the closeness made him overheat, and despite the cold weather outside, the inside of the truck was relatively warm after being in the garage. Except now it was awkward again. The heat of the moment had passed and Keith didn’t know how to fall back into it. 

“Can I ask you something without you getting pissed?” Dylan asked softly, leaning in closer. Keith fixed him with an apprehensive glare. “Am I… the first person to kiss you?” Keith huffed and crossed his arms. “I’m not making fun, I swear, I just… want to know.” 

After another moment of hesitation, Keith nodded. “I don’t usually let anyone get close enough to even hug me. You’re the first person to….” 

“Oh.” A rough hand settled on his cheek again. Keith’s breath caught, not really sure how he felt about it. Instinct told him to snap, to pull away. Desire told him to stay so he could get more. "Can I kiss you again?" 

Keith stared at him before letting his lips part slightly. "Yeah." 

It started out gentle. Like Dylan wanted to make a good memory out of their kiss, which Keith appreciated. But he  _ wanted more.  _ He had no idea how much he'd craved these touches, lips against his own, against his neck, and hands roaming over his clothes, all over his back. He never wanted them before, but now that someone was giving, giving, giving, he wanted all of it. 

The limited space made it awkward to lie back, but they managed. Dylan's weight on top of him created another sense of contradicting emotions. Part of Keith wanted to shove him off and be the one on top, but the other part was unraveling slowly as Dylan sucked against his neck and laved his tongue over each little bite. He didn't bother shutting up. He was panting and grasping Dylan's shirt in his hands, arching up against him. 

A hot hand slinked under his hoodie and his shirt, touching his scorching skin. Keith nearly moaned before a ringtone jarred them out of it. 

Panic tightened his chest as he scrambled for the jacket he'd shoved aside and searched the pockets. He pulled out his phone and cursed when he saw Shiro's name and the time. 

He pressed answer, but he didn't say anything. 

"Where the fuck are you?" Keith had never heard Shiro's voice like that. He was always so gentle when it came to Keith, so soft spoken. "Who are you with?" Keith stared at Dylan, catching his breath. "Goddammit, Keith!" Despite his exclamation, his voice was hushed like he was trying to keep quiet. "I can't believe you're still not talking, you can be such a brat, and I swear to God if you're not back in the next thirty minutes, I'm telling Mom and Dad and we're calling the fucking cops to find you! Get your ass home,  _ now!"  _ The line clicked off and Keith felt a flurry of anger and fear. Emotions he didn't have time to separate right now.

"I gotta go home. Like right now." 

"Yeah, yeah, okay." They hurried out of the back seat and Dylan didn't even ask before starting the car and practically racing back to Keith’s. 

He kept himself alert, anxiously tapping his fingers against the armrest. He recognized his street and jolted forward. “Here! Don’t go to the house, I can walk.” Dylan slammed the brakes and Keith undid his seatbelt. He turned to open the door, but it locked before he could. “I have to go!” 

“Will I see you again?” Dylan asked. 

Keith smirked. “Of course you will.” Dylan smiled and unlocked the door. Keith got out and turned back. “We have a class together after all.” Dylan’s face fell for a moment before an amused smile played on his lips. Keith didn’t spare him another glance as he raced down the street. 

He reached the house and immediately started for the side with the ladder, but it was pointless. The sound of his name made him jump and bite back a curse. Shiro was leaning against the front porch, arms crossed, dark hair over his eyes. The glowering look he gave Keith made him uneasy. 

Part of him expected a lecture right there. Instead, Shiro just opened the door and gestured in. “Be quiet, they went to bed already.” 

It was confusing, but Keith wasn’t going to question it. It’s not like he needed a lecture. Not like he didn’t know what would be said. He walked quickly through the door, and hoped Shiro wouldn’t notice how disheveled he was if he kept his composure. He went to his room and changed to get into bed. The pillows had already been scattered to the floor. He couldn’t believe he’d been let off that easily.

He should’ve known it was the calm before the storm. 

The next morning, he woke up to the sound of his bedroom door slamming open. Keith gasped as he sat up in bed, instinct kicking in as he took in his surroundings, trying to decide if he needed to fight or flee. Instead, he saw Shiro at the foot of his bed, that same angry expression on his face. It shouldn’t have been so terrifying considering the plaid pajama bottoms Shiro was in, but the guy was pretty menacing. Especially since Keith was used to seeing him smile. 

“What the fuck is your deal? Why did you sneak out? We give you so much privacy, and I’m wondering if we even should! If I were just a tiny bit nosier, it wouldn’t have taken my friend calling me and telling me you were out with someone for me to realize you were gone.” Shiro ran a hand through his hair as Keith vaguely wondered who the fuck felt the need to narc on him, as if people didn’t go out on a Friday night. “I mean for fuck’s sake, man! My parents want to give you everything you could ever want, and you pay them back by staying mute and running off with some deadbeat guy? I mean what the hell?” 

Keith’s stomach dropped. Shiro knew he’d been with a guy. Did he know the context of that? Was he going to tell Makoto and Aiko? But then… the way he’d said  _ my parents.  _ Keith was the one who didn’t belong here. If Shiro told them and they kicked him out, it just meant the process was expedited. Expected. Because Keith was the outlier. These were not his parents, not  _ their  _ parents. They were Shiro’s parents. It was Shiro’s house. 

Keith steeled himself, preparing for the slurs to be thrown at him. He wondered if Aiko and Makoto were near, hearing everything. How long would he have to get his things and leave? Would they let him keep his new stuff? 

He hadn’t realized it, but his breaths were coming short and fast, and not in a nice way like last night. This time, he was panicking. It made Shiro soften. Like he realized something. 

“Hey, easy.” He sat on the edge of the bed and Keith squirmed away. Shiro froze and stood back up. “Keith, it’s alright. They wouldn’t mind. I came out to them as gay about two or three years ago.” 

“What?” 

His face flushed as Shiro’s eyes brightened. The word was out before he could stop himself. But he couldn’t help it. The last thing Keith expected to find out about Shiro was that he was gay. So yes, his first word spoken to anyone in this house was a very confused and stupefied “what”. 

“My parents love me all the same. They wouldn’t care if you were gay. Or bi, or… whatever you identify as.” Keith narrowed his eyes and curled into himself a little more. “Look, I get that life hasn’t been great to you. But Mom and Dad are good people. People who want to help you and give you a family." Keith still didn't move. He was doubly adamant about keeping his mouth shut now. Shiro let out a resigned sigh. "The problem isn’t that you were out with a guy, Keith. Right now, it’s not even that you snuck out to do it. It’s who the guy was. Dylan Fray is not someone you should be getting involved with. Trust me, okay?” 

Trust. Yeah right. Keith knew how to take care of himself. He knew how the world worked, knew how to fight for himself in it. He knew how to protect himself. The last thing he needed was some guy wanting to play big brother to do it for him. He stared at his comforter, reigning in his anger. What did Shiro know anyway? 

“Just stay away from him, alright? And I won’t tell Mom and Dad that you snuck out. I won’t out you either. You can do that when it’s your choice. They’ll be back in a bit with breakfast, so…. I’m sorry for barging in like that. You worried me, and…. I’m sorry.” Keith didn’t say anything. Shiro left the room and Keith let out a breath. 

That was a lot. Too much to process within minutes of waking up. He got out of bed and made his way to the bathroom as quietly as possible. He needed a shower. As he undressed, he saw his reflection. How new it felt. His eyes were brighter. Purplish marks decorated his neck, even a bit of his shoulders. He thought back to how he’d felt when Dylan’s lips were on him, practically worshipping him. He smiled to himself and felt his body spark again. The touch had been so nice. 

And now someone wanted to take it from him. 

Keith huffed as he checked his phone. He’d forgotten to get Dylan’s number. Which meant he had no way of contacting him until school started up again. 

The days were bland. Not talking was driving Keith kind of crazy, but he was too proud to break it. Aiko and Makoto always seemed tense whenever Keith was in the same room as them, and it made him angry. Why did they bother fostering if they were going to be so uncomfortable around him? It only made Keith more determined not to talk. 

It wasn’t to say he didn’t communicate at all. Aiko had taken to asking him yes or no questions which Keith would answer with a shake of his head. 

_ Are you hungry?  _ A nod.  _ Do you want green beans?  _ A shrug.  _ Are you tired? Would you like to see a movie? Want to get groceries with me? Bring your favorite cereal. Point to the type of waffles you like. Goodnight, Keith. Good morning, Keith. Did you sleep well? Are you hungry?  _

At one point, Keith overheard Makoto and Aiko talking about it. 

“He’s a grown boy. He can’t act like a toddler throwing a fit, dear.” 

“He’s reserved. This is working right now, Maki.” 

“We should talk to his social worker. That Lydia woman. Maybe take him to a psychologist.” 

“Let me try a little more, love. He’s still acclimating.” 

Keith turned away and went back to his room after that. It helped to listen to music on his phone when things got like that. He wondered if Shiro had some sort of instinct or something, because every time Keith was in his room for over two hours during the day, he’d knock and ask if Keith wanted to go to the arcade or the movies or just to get Starbucks. Although he didn’t want Shiro getting any ideas, Keith was sufficiently bored out of his mind by the time Shiro asked, that he’d grab his jacket and follow him wordlessly. 

And despite it only being two weeks, Keith found himself getting agitated easily over the fact that he desperately craved another touch, another kiss. He couldn’t get Dylan out of his head. That wolfish smile. That honey-like voice melting over him. Those warm hands. Those enticing eyes. Keith spent several nights tossing and turning, feeling overheated and frustrated. 

On Christmas, he received three gifts, one from each of the family members. A stuffed hippo from Shiro which Keith planned on burning; an iPod from Aiko; and a fancy wristwatch from Makoto. He hadn’t gotten anything for them, but they seemed to have expected that.

New Year’s, they had a barbecue. The neighbors set off fireworks and also came to meet him. Aiko and Makoto introduced him as, “Keith. We’re fostering him.” Not son, not even foster son. Which was fine. 

He welcomed the start of school. It was something to occupy his mind, and more importantly a reason to be away from the house. He was able to use his voice if only to answer an occasional question. 

If he was honest with himself, Keith was looking forward to his theatre class. He kept his head down, constraining all the excited energy in his body as he waited for attendance to be called. Then, as usual, the teacher put on a movie and secluded himself in his office. It had a glass window to peer into the classroom, but the man was oblivious. 

Within two minutes of the classroom going dark, Clue playing through the projector, he felt the warmth of a body come up next to him. He smiled to himself and waited. 

The voice at his ear was low, soft, smooth. “Glad I could see you again.” Keith shivered at the way his breath tickled the back of his neck. Dylan had no right to affect him this much, but if he could, then Keith was at least going to control the way things went. 

He turned to him, smiling. “I really don’t want to watch this movie.” Dylan raised an eyebrow and nodded. He gestured to the green room behind them and walked away. Keith followed after a few moments, making sure to stay out of the teacher’s line of sight. He walked to the other side of the greenroom, to the stage entrance, knowing Dylan would follow. 

He dipped behind the heavy black curtains at the very back of the stage, secluding them. He could hear the rustle of the fabric as Dylan followed. Then, despite being a full head shorter than him, Keith shoved Dylan against the wall and pressed up against him. 

“I don’t think anyone will interrupt us here,” he murmured. Dylan smiled as his hand rested against Keith’s side. It nearly burned through his shirt. And then his lips. Keith’s knees nearly gave out, but he wrapped his arms around Dylan, letting the touches wash over him again. He gasped as soft lips pressed against his throat again. His hand gripped the fabric of Dylan’s jacket as a pathetic little moan slipped from his mouth. 

“You really like these, huh?” Dylan asked, breath brushing against Keith’s skin as he spoke. Keith grumbled and ignored the question. “What else do you like?” 

“Just… keep doing that,” Keith panted.

Dylan obeyed, mouthing at Keith’s neck until he’d turned them around and had him pressed against the wall. His long leg slotted between Keith’s. One hand stayed at Keith’s neck, the other slid to the small of his back, rolling Keith’s hips forward against his thigh. Keith’s next breath came out choked as his entire body seemed to ignite. 

He felt teeth graze his skin, felt them  _ bite,  _ and a louder sound slipped from his lips. His hips moved on their own at that point, the bulge in his jeans seeking relief against Dylan’s leg. It was primal, an animalistic urge like a dog humping a stuffed animal, but Keith couldn’t bring himself to care. Especially with Dylan’s low, heavy breaths resonating between them. 

“You’re so hot,” he murmured before biting and tugging on Keith’s earlobe. “Wanted to do this since I first saw you. Fuck, Keith.” 

No one had said his name like that before. So smoothly and heavy with want, with arousal. It sounded like a temptation. 

“Can I try something else?” Dylan purred. Keith nodded, dazed and dizzy. He felt hands unzip his jacket and unbutton his shirt halfway. Part of Keith was going nuts over the fact that he was shedding his clothes backstage at his school. Could it get any trashier? At the same time, he’d gone all break imagining the many ways he wanted Dylan to touch him, the sensations he wanted to be introduced to. So if this was happening backstage, so be it. 

Warm fingers hovered over his nipple and Keith arched into the touch, his whole face burning up at the feeling. Then Dylan started pinching, and Keith bit down on his lip to stifle a groan. 

“Keith? Are you out here?” he heard someone call out. 

“Fuck!” he hissed. Dylan pulled back quickly zipping Keith’s jacket over his unbuttoned shirt. He shoved him to the other side of the stage. 

“Go around the curtain over there. Come back when she’s gone.” 

Keith scowled, but he did what he said. He walked to the other end of the stage, hidden by curtains. The girl called his name again and he came out from the other side of the stage. “Yeah?” 

“Hey. What are you doing back here?” 

“I was trying to take a nap.” 

“Oh. Sorry. There’s a note from the principal for you.” Keith frowned and took the slip of paper she held out. A hall pass. Sure enough, he was getting called to the front office. He cursed under his breath and nodded. 

“Thanks.” She nodded and dipped back into the classroom. He huffed and went behind the curtains surrounding the stage to where he left Dylan. He fixed his shirt as he explained that he had to go. 

Dylan brushed his knuckles against Keith’s cheek gently. “Well, whenever he’s done talking to you, what do you say to playing hooky?” Keith frowned. “I wanna show you something. Meet me near the track when this class ends. You can blend in with the rest of the students as you leave. I’ll wait for you there.” 

“I have two more classes today,” Keith whispered. 

“Do you have tests or something?” 

“N-no, not till next week.” 

“Then come on.” He smiled playfully as he leaned down to kiss Keith softly. “It’d be nice not to be interrupted. And what I wanna show you is really cool. I promise.” 

Keith huffed and nodded. “Okay, fine. I’ll meet you.” Dylan gave him a wide smile and kissed his cheek, then he slinked back into class. Keith bit his lip and left the auditorium through a side door. 

It turned out the principal just wanted to see how he was feeling after his first couple months at the school. Keith wanted to strangle the man. 

“Your teachers tell me you’re very smart. It would help to participate a bit more,” he said. 

“I’ll take note of that.” 

“You know, with your grades, you could make it into an exemplary university without having to pay much out of pocket. Have you considered that yet?” 

Keith reigned in his frustration. “I’m a freshman, sir.” 

“That can be an important year. I have several seniors who wished they’d gotten started earlier on resumes, essays, extracurriculars, scholarships. Your foster brother was recently accepted into a very prestigious university just half an hour from here. You could ask him for advice.” 

Keith felt his stomach churn. He did  _ not  _ want to be known as Takashi Shirogane’s foster brother. “Will do,” he mumbled. 

“In the meantime, take this. It’s a list of extracurriculars you could be a part of. They can offer scholarships or simply offer leadership positions that would look good on applications.” He handed Keith a blue paper with a crappy design and smudged font listing the many clubs available to join. 

“Thanks…. Uh, I think I’m gonna get used to this place a little more first.” No point in joining if he was gonna leave within a year anyway. 

The principal smiled and nodded. “Of course! If you need any other help, you can also reach out to our guidance counselors. It’s never too early, and you have a bright future.”

That sentence made Keith clench his fist inside his jacket pocket. Bright future. What kind of bullshit? “Thank you,” he repeated. “The bell’s about to ring. Is it okay if I go?” The principal nodded, still smiling at him as he left. Keith went to the bathroom to wait for the bell to ring. Bright future. And here he was about to skip class. Surely one day wouldn’t hurt anyway. 

A shrill ring echoed through the halls and students began to fill up the empty corridors. Keith blended into them, pretending to go to the gym before going out the door that led to the temporary buildings. He saw Shiro walking to a class, talking animatedly with some guy, both wearing lettermans. Keith wondered vaguely if Shiro had a boyfriend. He quickly turned away before he could be seen and trekked toward the oval track. 

There was a section of the fence that was bent aside, like it’d been used to sneak out several times. Dylan stood beside it, blowing warm air into his hands. Keith walked up to him and was greeted with another cute smile. “Look at you being a little delinquent.” Keith rolled his eyes as Dylan lifted the broken part of the wire fence. “Go on then.” 

Keith went under and Dylan followed after. They hurried to the parking lot where Dylan had his truck, reaching it just as some gym students started filing out onto the track. As they left the school grounds, Dylan tossed his phone in Keith’s lap. “I’d like to talk with you outside of theatre, if that’s okay with you.” 

Keith smiled and put his number into the phone. He texted himself and saved Dylan’s number. “Where are we going?” 

“I wanna show you this hobby I have. And if you’re up for it, you can keep me company sometimes.” Keith furrowed his eyebrows. “You can pick the music again.” 

Fleetwood Mac serenaded them as they drove. They reached a run down building near a bakery. It had boards against the windows and a sign that said “government property”. Keith hesitated as Dylan got out of the truck and told him to follow. 

“Isn’t this trespassing?” Keith asked as he walked into the building without a glance back. 

“No one actually pays attention to this place. A pity really. It’s the perfect canvas.” 

“Canvas?” Dylan didn’t respond. He picked up a bag that was in the corner and went out the back door. Keith followed despite his reluctance. When he stepped back into the cold, he saw the back wall of the building, and his eyes went wide. 

There against what had been weathered, browning, water-stained brick, were his own indigo eyes staring back at him. His mouth was covered by a detailed bandana. His hair fell in front of his eyes. Somehow his personal brooding expression had been captured perfectly, the color of his eyes vibrant and alluring. But it was him. He knew it was. 

“Anyone else wouldn’t know it’s you,” Dylan said, eyeing him carefully. “That’s why I added the bandana.” 

“When did you do this?” Keith whispered. He felt both flattered and slightly disturbed. 

A gentle hand took his and pulled him close. “I couldn’t get you out of my head all break. Every time I closed my eyes, you were there. The taste of your skin, the look in your eyes, the sounds you made in my truck.” Keith blushed, but kept his eyes on Dylan. “So I came here to work on this. I just need to work on the background. Do you mind staying with me?” 

Keith felt like someone was tickling his stomach. “Sure. Just get me back before the final bell so Shiro won’t know I left.” Dylan nodded, kissed his hand, and grabbed the bag. He pulled out some spray cans and got to work on the wall. 

As he worked, he asked Keith what happened when he got home the night of their date. Keith told him about Shiro’s little lecture and his warning to stay away. 

Dylan turned to look at him. “But you didn’t.” 

“I don’t like being told what to do,” he answered. 

Dylan smiled and kept working on the wall. He kept asking questions and Keith found himself venting about what it was like being in that house. He told him about what the principal said and noticed that Dylan seemed to hesitate. 

“What is it?” Keith asked. 

“You’re a freshman? Really?” 

“Yeah. Why, what year are you?” 

“Junior,” he said. “Funny. I thought you were a sophomore for some reason. You act more mature than a freshman.” 

“Is that… a problem?” 

Dylan smiled and shook his head. “Anyways, your mural is done. Wanna sign it? Just initials if you want.” Keith smiled and walked over, taking the black spray paint from the ground. He signed two Ks along the bottom then Dylan signed the rest with the word “Griffin.” 

“Griffin?” 

“My favorite mythological creature. So no one can track me for vandalizing, I use it to sign my work.” He placed his arm over Keith’s shoulders and pulled him in, letting Keith bask in his warmth. “So you like it?” 

Keith looked at the wall, now an array of bursts of color behind the grayscale rendition of his face, his eyes the only pop of color in the middle. “Yeah. I really do.”

Dylan brushed his nose against Keith’s cheek, humming softly. Keith felt his body heat spike at the touch. Fuck, how was he so pliant under Dylan’s touch? A hand turned his head until he met soft lips and all the air escaped him. He responded immediately, following Dylan's lead as he coaxed his mouth open. His tongue made Keith’s knees weaken, made heat pool in his belly. It was ridiculous how much Dylan affected him, but part of Keith loved it. He loved the feelings that surged through him at the touch. 

Suddenly, Keith felt the ground disappear. His back hit the wall as strong hands dug into his thighs, and Keith was certain he was on the verge of a blackout. 

“You’re so sensitive,” Dylan whispered. His teeth grazed Keith’s earlobe. “Just a kiss and you’re all hot and bothered.” 

Keith scowled and pressed his hand against Dylan’s shoulder, shoving him back to no avail. “Don’t make fun of me,” he snapped. 

Dylan just laughed and kissed him on the mouth again. “I’m not. I love it.” Keith felt the pressure of Dylan’s hips grind between his open thighs. “Can’t believe no one’s ever touched you before me.” 

In the back of his brain, Keith wondered what time it was, if he had time to get back to school before Shiro found out he was gone. But it was a fleeting worry because his body was on overdrive, the way it always was when he was with this boy. 

“I wanna touch every part of you if you’d let me,” Dylan murmured. The words made Keith’s eyes widen, stoked the fire building in his gut. “I’ve never wanted to be with someone so badly.” 

“Wh-why?” Keith asked breathlessly. Dylan stopped moving his hips and focused on kissing his neck. He hummed in question and Keith struggled to string words together. “Why me?” The soft touch of fingers caressing his cheek made Keith stop breathing. He stared at Dylan with wide eyes. 

“I like you. I like you so much it drives me insane, Keith. Everything about you draws me to you. I don’t want you to stay away from me because I don’t want to stay away from you.” 

“I won’t,” Keith promised immediately. His heart was beating like crazy. He felt the same pull toward Dylan. Felt the same fascination, the attraction. “I don’t care what Shiro tells me, he’s nobody.” 

“He’s your foster brother-”

“ _ No,”  _ Keith snapped. Dylan furrowed his eyebrows and pressed his palm against Keith’s cheek. “Shiro is not my brother. He’s some guy I have to room with to get fed. None of those people are my family. You already know more about me than them. They don’t get to keep me away from you.” 

Keith felt his cheeks warm as Dylan’s expression turned soft and gentle. He leaned forward, pulling Dylan into an insistent kiss. 

“Be mine, Keith….” 

Keith smiled against his lips, scrunching his nose at the term. “You sound like a cheesy Valentine’s Day card.” 

“I mean it.” Dylan’s voice was serious. A little offended. 

Keith furrowed his eyebrows and met his gaze. He shifted, insistently pressing his legs down so Dylan would let him stand. When his feet were firm on the ground, he tilted his head up to look at Dylan. “What like… like a boyfriend?” Keith tried to play it off as something small, something that wasn’t important… in case he said no. 

“If you want that,” Dylan whispered. “I like you a lot. I want to know you’ll really stay with me no matter what Shiro or anyone else says.” He pressed his forehead against Keith’s and closed his eyes. “I like how I feel with you. I like being with you. I’m scared it’ll go away.”

“It won’t,” Keith promised. The tremor in Dylan’s voice made Keith panic, made him want to do anything it took to keep it away. He cupped Dylan’s face and kissed him softly, a kiss that felt more intimate than all the others. It was comfortable. “I want to be with you too. I’ll stay. I promise.” 

Dylan opened his eyes, a jittery smile tugging at his lips like he couldn’t believe Keith wanted to be with him too. He kissed him back, lightly bumping their noses together. “This is the part where you ask me to be your boyfriend,” Dylan whispered. 

Keith blushed, but Dylan looked so excited, so happy that he couldn’t brush it off. He bit his lip and ducked his head. “Okay…. Well… I-I’ve never been in a relationship before, so….” Keith gulped and took a shaky breath when Dylan kissed under his ear. “Will you be my boyfriend?” The word felt funny on his lips, but the question was out. 

He could feel Dylan’s smile against his cheek. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d really like that,” he answered. “Come on.” 

He pressed another kiss against his lips then tugged Keith back inside the building, and toward the front. He stashed his supplies in the back seat before getting in, both of them shielded from the cold. 

“We’ve got thirty more minutes before dismissal,” Dylan said. “We can hang out in the parking lot until everyone comes out so you can blend in.” 

“Sounds good to me,” Keith said. He put his seatbelt on and stared out the window, still wrapping his head around everything. The art, the kiss, the… boyfriend. He felt a warm hand slide into his and felt his heart speed up. “This is nice,” he whispered as Dylan started the car. 

Dylan simply smiled and started driving. 

They got back to campus with twenty minutes to spare. Twenty minutes of more kisses that reduced Keith to heavy pants and made his entire body feel like it was on fire.

“No marking, no marking,” Keith said in a broken voice as Dylan sucked against his neck. 

“What if I mark where no one can see?” 

Keith gulped and stared at him in confusion. Dylan smirked and shifted so he could push Keith’s shirt up and pressed his mouth against the skin. It really shouldn’t have been so overwhelming, but like Dylan mentioned before, no one else had ever touched Keith like this. There was promise in every brush of his lips, every press of his fingers.

The seat belt buckle dug into his side as Dylan laid him back, running his tongue over heated skin. His teeth nipped at his stomach, his chest, and it made Keith feel more sensitive than ever. He couldn’t figure out how to slow his breaths down; he was lightheaded and overheated. 

Then he felt Dylan undo the button on his jeans and he looked down, panic spiking in his chest. 

“Wait, wait, no,” he said, clamping his thighs together and tensing. Dylan froze and peered up at him. “Not… not that. Not yet.” As silly as it might have sounded, Keith imagined that vulnerable physical touch like that would be something that built slowly. Something born from a relationship full of love, from someone he knew would never leave like so many others had already. It was straight out of a sappy romance film, but… it was a nice thought to hold onto. 

“Oh. Okay,” Dylan said. He sounded disappointed, but he buttoned Keith back up and pulled himself up. He settled his weight over him, and Keith forced himself not to wince when the buckle dug into his hip bone. “So… how do we do dates and such if we’re sneaking around?” Dylan smirked and kissed along Keith’s collarbone. The sting of his teeth scraping his skin made it hard for Keith to even think. “It’s a whole forbidden love fantasy.” 

“Oh my God,” Keith muttered. “Mm. I can figure it out. Sneak out. Make it seem like I’m with friends. I don’t even talk to the Shiroganes, I’m sure they’ll just be glad I’m leaving the house.” He squirmed and curled his fist into Dylan’s shirt. “Don’t  _ stop.”  _

Dylan laughed and pushed his hands up under Keith’s shirt, fingertips brushing over his nipples. 

“I’d bet I could make you finish just like this,” he whispered, making Keith blush furiously. “Have you ever done it before? Do you even know what it feels like to come?” 

Keith scowled and hit his shoulder. “Yes,” he hissed. “But it’s d-different when someone else is… touching me.” The most embarrassing part was that he was right. Dylan could probably make Keith cream his pants if he kept doing what he was doing. 

“ _ Fucking hell.”  _

The second Dylan pressed himself against Keith’s hips, they heard the distant buzz of an intercom. Keith’s eyes widened as he shoved Dylan off and sat up. 

“Shit.” Afternoon announcements. Students would be flooding out of the school soon. “I gotta go.” Keith fixed his shirt and tried to think about gross things to make his boner go away. As soon as he looked at Dylan, all the jitters came rushing back. “Text me? It’d be nice to….” 

“Stop being interrupted?” he said with a smirk. Keith nodded. “Soon, baby.” Dylan cupped his face and kissed him. It was gentle and promising and intimate, something that was theirs, something that boyfriends did. “The APs come out by the bus ramp. Go around the track and blend into the TB classes when they dismiss.” 

Keith nodded and got out of the truck then rushed to the track as the bus routes began getting dismissed. He snuck his way to the grossly beige TBs and leaned against one as he waited. The car riders were dismissed, and Keith simply slipped into the crowd. No one looked his way, too focused on getting the hell out and laughing with their friends. 

He found Shiro at the pillar outside the front office where he usually waited for Keith. He was talking to someone, probably the same guy he’d seen him with earlier. As Keith got closer, he overheard something about a college application. The conversation cut off when the other guy’s eyes drifted to Keith. 

Shiro looked at him and smiled. “Hey. Ready to go?” Keith shrugged. Shiro turned to the guy. “Alright, I’ll see you later, lemme know if you need help studying.” Shiro didn’t say anything else, he just gestured for Keith to follow him as they left the building. 

Keith didn’t like how curious he was about Shiro. How he wanted to know what colleges he was considering, if he was going to move away or how far, whether that guy was more than a friend or if Shiro wanted him to be more than a friend, or even how Shiro realized he was gay and how he told his parents. Shiro was just… annoyingly fascinating. He walked the halls with his head held high, but a friendly smile that made him have to stop and say hi to someone more times than Keith cared for. People liked Shiro, and while he wasn’t exactly popular, he was obviously comfortable in his own skin, in who he was at school. 

“What are you staring at me like that for?” Shiro asked. 

Keith rolled his eyes and looked away. They reached the car, and Shiro began his usual after-school spiel. 

How was your day? How were classes? Did you like the lunch today? 

As if Shiro didn’t know each question would be answered by a shrug or a shake of his head. Then he played some music to fill the silence. The song that came on was familiar, and so was the one after it. Keith tapped his fingers against his knee and tried to look around discreetly. His gaze fell on a CD case slotted in the cup holder at an angle. 

_ QUEEN Greatest Hits  _

He’d heard of Queen before, but never realized they were the ones singing the songs he liked so much. 

“You can turn it up if you want. I like this one, so I was gonna loop around the block to let it play if that’s cool,” Shiro said. He wasn’t looking at Keith. 

Keith didn’t respond. He just turned the song up and looked out the window as they passed the house and went around the block again and again until it ended. 

When they parked, Shiro held out the CD. “You can borrow it if you wanna listen to it.” 

Keith clenched his jaw and got out of the car, ignoring the offer. Who the hell still used CDs anyway? 

He went inside and went upstairs to leave his backpack in his room before going back downstairs to eat lunch. 

About halfway through his lunch, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. 

_ hey angel miss u already _

Keith stared at the text for a while, trying to process it. He had a boyfriend. And his boyfriend was texting him. His boyfriend used a pet name and he missed him. 

“Keith, dear, no phones at the table,” he heard Aiko say. He quickly shoved the phone in his pocket and focused on his plate, hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt. “Did you have a good school day?” Keith nodded. “Did you see any of your friends?” 

Keith looked up at her. He couldn’t say yes because he knew Shiro would immediately figure out exactly what friend he meant. But she was probably asking because of his reaction to his phone. So he shook his head and went back to eating, hoping it would end the questions. 

Sure enough, Makoto turned the conversation to Shiro to ask him about his day. Keith tuned out everything he said, his brain still reeling from his day with Dylan. 

Once he was finished eating, Keith made a dash for his room and pulled his phone out to respond. He explained the stupid no phones at the table rule to excuse the tardiness of his text, but Dylan assured him it was fine. They spent the entire time texting, going from jokes to genuine conversation about something or other happening at their houses to sappy, sweet messages about missing each other that had Keith smiling like an idiot. 

Throughout the rest of the week, if he wasn’t texting Dylan it was because he was with him. They sat together at lunch and Dylan introduced him to his other friends- the ones that were usually flanking him in the hall. 

One was named Thomas. He had a kind smile and always offered something on his tray to Keith. Another was named Adrian. He was quieter, and Keith wasn’t entirely sure what to make of him. Then there was Ricardo, Michael, and Jonathan. They usually led the conversation at the table, bouncing off each other’s energy and riling the whole group up. 

At first, Keith was anxious about sitting with them. So many new people at once. Dylan had introduced him as his boyfriend, and none of them seemed to mind or be surprised. And when they sat, Dylan put his arm around Keith, and it made him feel safe, comfortable. 

Near the end of the week, while they were hiding out behind the curtains of the stage during theatre class again, Dylan asked Keith to skip again. “I can’t skip too often. It’ll make my teachers suspicious and then they’ll call Shiro or the foster parents.”

“Okay…. Then how about you join me on a new art project this weekend,” Dylan said. “We can eat snacks, hide from patrol cars, make out in my truck.” His wolfish grin sent shivers through Keith’s body. When Keith didn’t respond, he pressed his mouth against his neck and bit gently. “There’s so much I wanna do with you.” 

“Yeah? Like what?” He was genuinely curious. Dylan had tried once or twice to move their texting into new territory, but Keith always chickened out and made up an excuse. Now, with Dylan’s body pressed against him in the dark and his hands tracing his stomach under his shirt, he felt safer. He felt like he could be reckless. 

“Well for one, I’d love to see your face the day I’m able to make you finish.” Keith turned red at the words, but he was already dizzy and unable to filter himself or Dylan. “I could make you feel so good. I wanna take you everywhere you wanna go and touch you everywhere you wanna be touched. I wanna do everything with you.” 

Keith could feel his heartbeat in his ears, in his toes. “I haven’t… I haven’t done anything with anyone.”

“I know,” Dylan whispered. “But you’ve touched yourself right?” 

Embarrassment flooded Keith’s face, but he knew Dylan couldn’t see it. “Y-yeah.” 

A little smirk tugged his lips as he pulled Keith closer. “Wanna try something? It’ll be easy because it’s like that.” 

Keith had an idea of what he meant. He’d seen a handful of videos out of curiosity and they’d left him flustered and overwhelmed and frustratingly overheated. It was a little terrifying to think of it happening in real life.

“Here?” 

Dylan peeked out from their spot and took Keith’s hand to lead him to the side of the stage farthest from the door to the green room. There was a ladder attached to the wall and Dylan gently nudged him to go up. Confused, Keith climbed up and found that it led to a space with larger props that didn’t fit in the costume room. There was a huge chair with straps at the arms and legs that made Keith uneasy. There was a long couch covered by a tarp, a table on its side, and a few pieces of wood that were either scraps of a previous set or pieces they could use to build new ones. 

“I didn’t even know this existed,” Keith said. 

“Great place to stay when you want to skip,” Dylan said. “It can get dusty, but I usually just sleep on the couch.” He moved the tarp and revealed the couch which was possibly the cleanest thing up there. He walked up to Keith and trailed a hand up his arm. “We don’t have to worry about getting caught up here. And there’s still thirty minutes until the bell.” 

Keith gulped and followed him to the couch, sitting beside him stiffly. An uncomfortable feeling churned in his stomach, even as Dylan turned to kiss him, lips moving to his cheek then down to his jaw to trail to his neck. After a moment, Keith realized why he felt so put off. “How many times have you done this?” he asked flatly. 

“What?” 

Keith turned to look at him with a blank expression. “How many times have you done things back here? Behind the curtains or up here.” Dylan furrowed his eyebrows and opened his mouth, but remained speechless. The vague answer lingered in the air between them, giving Keith a sour taste in his mouth. He scoffed and got up to go back down the ladder when he felt Dylan’s hand tug on his arm. 

“Keith, wait.” 

“Let me go,” Keith snarled, trying to pull his arm free. He finally managed and started walking again, but Dylan had caught up with him and grabbed him with his other hand. “Dylan!” 

“Would you calm down?” Dylan snapped, yanking Keith to face him. He leaned down to meet his eyes and put his free hand on Keith’s cheek. “I didn’t answer because you caught me by surprise. I got confused. I mean, what the hell even made you ask me something like that?” 

He sounded hurt. Was Keith’s question really that unreasonable? “You sound so experienced. You’re guiding me through all of this like…. And you always make a point to talk about how new I am to everything-”

“Easy, angel,” Dylan said, putting a finger to Keith’s lips. "I’m not gonna lie to you and say I’ve never done anything. I have, but not nearly as often as you’re thinking. I just….” He sighed and tilted Keith’s face up towards him. “I like you so much. I feel like I can tell you anything. You’re easy to talk to, easy to be myself with.” He leaned in to kiss him gently. “I like that you’re new to this. That you trust me enough. I just wanna give you everything you could ever want.” 

Keith remained speechless at that. He bit his lip and closed his eyes and he pressed against Dylan’s chest. “I feel the same way about you,” he whispered. “Just… don’t make me feel stupid for being new to this stuff. And… maybe let’s not have major moments keep happening in the dark corners of a dusty stage.” 

He felt the rumble of Dylan’s laughter under his hands and looked up at him to smile. “Okay, that’s fair.” He tilted Keith’s chin up to him and whispered, “Can we make up now?” 

Keith nodded and stifled a laugh as they stumbled back to the couch. Dylan pulled Keith on top of him and kissed him over and over. This time, Keith wanted to be the one making him feel the things he felt. He wanted to be the one making his breaths turn short and fast as he skimmed his neck, he wanted his hands to explore the curves and dips of his torso. He wanted to be the one leaving marks on his skin, so when he looked in the mirror, he’d think of Keith. 

So he pushed his shirt up and let instinct and memory do the rest. He recalled the things Dylan would do to him that set his skin on fire and tried it too. A hand began to sift through his hair, and as Keith moved his mouth further up his chest, he felt the quick rise and fall. It gave him a sense of satisfaction. 

He pulled away to see the way little spots of fuschia had begun to bloom on Dylan’s skin and smiled to himself. “How’s that for an art project?” he said, raising an eyebrow. 

Dylan smirked and touched his neck absently. “I’ll be sure to give you my verdict when I get a chance to see it.” 

Keith smiled and pulled away. “I gotta get my things and get to class. I’ll figure out a way to see you this weekend.” He kissed him again before waving goodbye and hurrying down the ladder. 

The days were easier to handle when he knew he would see Dylan. He was happier. He hadn’t felt so wanted in his life. Keith wanted to do whatever it took to keep him around. 

Shiro and his parents had planned a weekend trip to visit one of the colleges Shiro was considering. It took everything in Keith not to roll his eyes as Makoto rambled about Shiro’s successes. So the guy had a supportive family and the privilege of stability. Big deal. 

Maybe it was still visible on his face because Aiko kept glancing at him and trying to change the topic to places they could go see. Keith got an idea and decided to play into the anger. When Makoto said something about scholarships, Keith made a point of looking away at a blank spot on the wall. It didn’t take long before Keith found a perfect chance to stand up and go up to his room, letting his feet stomp down on the stairs as he went. He added a door slam for good effect and laid down on his bed. 

Sure enough, he heard a soft knock followed by Aiko saying his name. The door opened, but Keith didn’t bother looking. The bed shifted the smallest amount as Aiko sat on the edge. 

“Keith, hon? Are you okay?” Keith didn’t answer. “Listen, Shiro used to struggle with school a lot, so Maki is just really excited. He’s our firstborn, so this is all a big deal.” 

Shiro was their  _ only  _ born. And that thought stung Keith more than he liked to admit it did. 

“I understand it might have come off like he was bragging, but… he’d do the same for you when you start choosing colleges.” Keith scowled, even though she couldn’t see his face. “We gotta get going, so why don’t you come back downstairs-” 

As her hand settled on his shoulder, Keith yanked away and scooted closer to the edge. 

It was a mix of things by then. It was supposed to be an act, but with the things she said…. He didn’t want these promises. He’d heard them before and they amounted to nothing. These people would give him back the second he caused too much trouble, the second he wasn’t the foster kid they imagined when they decided to foster. Keith didn’t want any of it. 

“Okay,” Aiko said softly. Keith could tell she was hurt, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to care. “Would you… rather stay here?” 

Keith nodded, but the question made a weight settle in his stomach. How simple. Not much of a fight. 

“Okay. I understand. I can leave you some money for food for Saturday and Sunday. We want to be back Sunday night, so you won’t be alone too long.” She reached out to push his hair away from his face for a split second. “We’re leaving in half an hour. If you change your mind, come back down. If not… I understand. I’ll leave the money on the counter. But just… do me a favor and answer my texts, okay?” Keith managed a small nod. “Okay. Okay.” She sighed and stood up. The door opened again. “Keith, we’re not going anywhere. I understand you need time to believe it, but I promise you we’re going to be here for as long as possible. And when you realize that…. Well, we’ll get to that. Thirty minutes, okay?” The door shut. 

Keith wasn’t sure when he’d started crying, but he wiped at his eyes angrily. Frustrated, he shuffled under the covers and covered himself up, willing himself not to cry or mull over Aiko’s words. He didn’t want to hope they were true. He didn’t want to  _ want  _ to believe it. 

Sure enough, before the hour was out, he heard the engine rev outside. He went to his window to see their car pull out of the driveway and disappear down the street. A message on his phone from Aiko told him they’d left and reminded him about the money on the counter. Keith went back downstairs, everything seeming bigger and emptier than before. 

He tried to ignore the feeling of being left behind and given up on. It’d been his choice after all.

***

“Are you okay?” 

Keith nodded and put up his phone. It was Saturday and Shiro had messaged to ask if he’d eaten yet. Keith simply sent a thumbs up. 

“You’ve been quiet since I got here” 

He looked at Dylan as he drank from his soda and stuffed a fry in his mouth. “It’s stupid,” Keith muttered. Dylan raised an eyebrow. He stood and moved so instead of sitting across from Keith, he was beside him. He put an arm over his shoulders, letting Keith huddle into him. Just like that, Keith found himself spilling the cycle of thoughts in his head. 

How he’d planned to trick the Shiroganes into letting him stay home alone for the weekend, how it only backfired and made him genuinely upset, how it left him feeling like no one fought hard enough or meant what they said even though he was the one pushing them away and keeping them from making any progress. 

“It’s just…. Maybe part of me wanted her to insist on taking me with them. She gave in so easily, it’s like… did she really even care? Did the other two? But even if I did believe them, what would happen the moment Lydia came to pick me up and take me back? Just another family screwing me over and I’d be the dumbass who was naive enough to believe them.” Keith kicked at the table to shove it back in frustration. 

“Easy, tiger,” Dylan said. “It’s not your responsibility to build a relationship with them. They’re the ones not fighting hard enough,” he said. “Of course you’re going to be apprehensive about it. They have to prove you wrong, and they’re failing at doing that. I mean, I sure as hell didn’t give up. I proved you wrong didn’t I?” 

“Babe,” Keith said in exasperation. He did feel a little better being validated, though. 

“I’m just saying,” Dylan said. He turned Keith’s face toward him. “I know you’re hurt. And I’m sorry. But on the bright side… at least we get time together. Uninterrupted this time. Right?” 

“Hmm. Yeah. You’re sure you can stay the night?” 

Dylan nodded and kissed him softly. “I’m all yours. You still up for our art project?” Keith nodded and smiled as Dylan kissed his cheek. “Cool. Let’s get going then.” 

They threw the trash away in the bin outside so there would be no evidence in the house of Keith having anyone over. He used the spare key to lock the door as they left then followed Dylan into his truck. They drove while listening to the radio with the windows down, and Keith felt like this was freedom. Music blasting, wind tousling his hair, Dylan’s hand in his, and no need to look over his shoulder. 

They arrived at a gas station. Keith wasn’t sure what the big deal was, considering they’d driven past several gas stations and this one was just particularly out of their way. They walked into the convenience store and Dylan piled sodas and chips and Starburst candies onto the counter before walking out with the bag. 

He stopped at the truck only to get a duffel bag from the backseat before grabbing Keith by the hand and leading him around to the back of the building. An indiscernible, half-done piece covered most of the back wall. 

“What are you painting here?” Keith asked. He pulled out one of the sodas as he looked at the large wall full of stains and chipped bits. 

“Well, originally we were gonna go to the skate park and paint along the older ramps with the guys, but I figured you’d like this one more. You just make sure cops don’t come patrolling. And pass me some Starbursts.” 

Keith shuffled to sit close enough to the corner to catch sight of passing cars while still being close to Dylan as he tore open the pack of Starbursts. He handed Dylan one as he set up his spraypaint and watched idly. 

They played another round of 20-questions, reminiscent of their not-date, while Dylan worked. It was mostly about music and movies they liked, often resulting in Keith playing whatever song they were talking about on his phone. 

“Okay, I have one. Can you unwrap a Starburst in your mouth?” Dylan asked. 

“What?”

“They say if you can, then you’re a good kisser.” 

Keith laughed and raised an eyebrow. “And who’s ‘they?’” 

Dylan didn’t answer as he turned away from the wall. He grabbed a Starburst from the bag and popped it in his mouth with the wrapper still on. Keith grimaced but watched as his mouth moved. A few moments later, Dylan stuck his tongue out to show the candy separated from the wrapper. He tossed the paper aside and chewed on the candy with a smug, proud smile. 

“Well, I could’ve told you that you were a good kisser,” Keith said with a roll of his eyes. “But it’s impressive.” 

“Well, you know…. It’s not just kissing that you’re supposed to be good at by doing that.” Dylan quirked an eyebrow mischievously, and Keith blushed. “Okay, on a serious note. Can you see it yet?” 

Keith looked at the wall, taking in the bigger picture. The silhouettes were clearer, but the details Dylan was so good at were still missing. 

“It looks like… a dragon and a bird,” Keith said. 

“A griffin,” Dylan clarified. “It’s us. This one’s you because you’ve got a fire in you. You’re full of power and strength.” He pulled Keith closer with an arm around his shoulders. “And you’re hot, of course.” 

Keith laughed and nudged him playfully before wrapping his arms around him and resting his head in the crook of his shoulder. Looking up at the dragon with its wings spread, mouth open wide, Keith wondered what he’d done to make Dylan see him this way. To see him as someone strong and powerful, to see a dragon inside him. 

“I mean it,” Dylan said with a smile. He tugged Keith until he could look him in the eyes. “Listen to me. Your foster family doesn’t get you, baby. But I do. That’s why I tell you everything. It’s you and me against the universe. Okay? From now on, I’ve got you and you got me. We don’t need anybody else.” 

Dylan touched his forehead against Keith’s, and he shut his eyes. Slowly, Keith nodded. He had someone who fought for him. Someone who would stay at his side. He had someone who made him feel…. Loved. 

“You’re everything to me,” Keith whispered. 

His boyfriend responded with a deep kiss, and even though he smelled strongly of spraypaint, Keith didn’t care. He had never felt more accepted and wanted in his life. Dylan pulled back after a moment and sighed. “I’ll have to come back for the finishing touches, but I think that’s enough fumes for today. Plus I’m getting hungry again.” 

Keith laughed and nodded. “Let’s get a pizza or something and head back to my place.” 

On their way back, Keith got a text from Aiko. She asked how he was doing and if he needed anything. Keith answered with a thumbs up then shoved his phone back in his pocket. 

He didn’t need them. He had Dylan. 

They ate the pizza in Keith’s room while a TV show played on his laptop. Once they were done, Keith tossed the pizza box aside and wiped his mouth with his hand. “I hate that I always smell the garlic on my lip after eating pizza,” he muttered. 

“Sexy,” Dylan said with a wink. Keith nudged him playfully. “What, you don’t think so? Garlic kisses are the hottest thing, look.” Dylan grabbed him by his midsection and pinned him to the bed, playfully kissing his face while Keith laughed and squirmed, begging him to get off. 

He scrunched his nose as Dylan licked his cheek. “That’s disgusting,” he said with a defeated laugh. 

“Yeah? What about this?” With that, Dylan went for his weak point. His mouth skimmed his throat, biting and sucking insistently. 

“No marking,” Keith reminded him breathlessly. 

Obediently, Dylan pulled away. He pushed his shirt up, hands exploring greedily. “And here?” He licked a stripe up Keith’s stomach, and Keith pressed his head back into the pillows. “No interruptions here. Maybe I really can get you to finish this time.” 

Keith’s face burned with both arousal and embarrassment. One of Dylan’s hands fell to his crotch area, pawing against his jeans as Keith shivered. Meanwhile his mouth sucked at his stomach and chest, teeth grazing and nipping sporadically. 

He felt the hand that had been pressing against his jeans move to unzip and unbutton him. Before he could pull at the waist of his jeans, Keith scrambled to stop him by grabbing his wrists. 

“Not… not yet. Not that.” 

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I wasn’t going to suggest sex. But something a little more than our usual, maybe?” 

Keith wanted to. He really did. He was dying to know what Dylan’s hands and mouth felt like when his clothes weren’t in the way. But he was also terrified. No one had ever seen him naked that way. He wasn’t even sure how he felt about his body. He had no idea what Dylan was expecting to be beneath his clothes, and Keith just wasn’t ready for that. Getting handsy with clothes on was a very different story from removing it all. 

“I just… don’t… want to,” he said. “Being n-naked... is actually kind of a huge deal for me. I don’t know….” 

Dylan’s face dropped and he pulled his hand away. “Oh.” He sounded annoyed. It made Keith nervous. “Should I… go home then?” 

“What? No. No, why?” Keith scrambled to sit up, rebuttoning himself and repositioning his shirt. 

“Well, you’re kind of killing me over here. I’ve been dying to touch you for so long. This is the perfect situation Keith. A bed, no parents, the house to us all night, all day. I just….” Dylan groaned and pushed his hands through his own hair. “You gotta give me something, angel.” 

Keith felt guilt settle in his chest. He’d been taking from Dylan for so long and giving nothing in return besides a few hickeys on his chest and neck which had already faded. “I’m just… not ready for all that yet.” Dylan sighed in exasperation and rubbed his face. “Don’t be mad….” 

“Yeah, I get it,” Dylan said. He looked at Keith and shrugged. “Is it… just you not wanting to show your body?” Keith furrowed his eyebrows. “I mean, with what you said last night, I was thinking maybe… we could try that?” 

Keith gulped. 

The night before, Dylan had asked him if there was anything he wanted to try. Things he wanted to have done to him, things he wanted to do to Dylan. Keith had mentioned being curious about blowjobs, but he’d figured it could be something they got into later. 

Then again, with how riled up he’d gotten Dylan for nothing…. Maybe it was fair. 

He nodded nervously. “Yeah, I guess. I just don’t know if I’d be any good at it.” 

“I can walk you through it,” Dylan said. “If you want?” 

Again, Keith swallowed nervously, feeling his entire body stiffen. He’d already agreed to it the night before. It wouldn’t be fair to go back on it now. 

“C’mere.” Dylan pulled him up from the bed and kissed him. The kiss was long, soft, and sweet. It soothed Keith’s nerves and made his heart race faster. Then, while they kissed, he felt Dylan undo his belt. He heard the rustle of clothing as Dylan pulled himself out, and Keith did his best not to overthink it. 

Dylan took his hand and slowly led Keith to touch him. The feeling was strange. He’d touched himself, but there was something terrifying and weird about touching someone else. He couldn’t even bring himself to look. He just kept his eyes shut and kissed him, ignoring the heavy breaths between their kisses. 

“Your hand’s cold.” 

“Sorry,” Keith managed to choke out. 

Dylan pulled back, smiling. He put his palm against one of Keith’s shoulders, pushing him down. Keith hesitated, fighting the push as his brain tried to catch up and find a way out. The pressure on his shoulder increased and Keith let himself fall to his knees with his eyes closed. 

“Gorgeous,” Dylan whispered. “Look at me.” 

Keith opened his eyes, startled by the way Dylan’s dick looked. It was large, with a red head, demanding attention. Dylan had one hand at the base, the other at the back of Keith’s head, pulling him in. 

“Come on, you’re the one who said you wanted to.”

Steeling himself, Keith waited until the thing was right at his lips before letting his mouth fall open. Dylan pushed himself into Keith’s mouth with a low groan. Keith wrapped his lips around the shape of the cock, possibly thinking too much for his own good. 

The taste was salty, musty, sweaty. Not quite dirty, but it wasn’t very pleasant. The texture felt simultaneously hard and soft, somewhat rubbery. Keith didn’t know what to do with his mouth, but he wanted it to be over already. He wanted to brush his teeth, get in bed, and listen to music. 

But Dylan was pushing his hips in and out, the hand at the back of his head clutching tightly at Keith’s hair. Keith felt his gag reflex and tried to force it back, but tears still sprung at his eyes in response. 

“God, that’s hot,” Dylan said with a growl. “Suck, angel.” 

Keith huffed through his nose and closed his eyes, feeling the tears spill. He obeyed, wrapping his mouth tighter and he sucked and shifted his tongue, letting Dylan maneuver him as he pleased. He hit his gag reflex often, but only enough to make Keith lurch and cause more tears, never enough to make him gag fully. 

Above him, Dylan cursed and began to speed up. “Fuck, that’s so good. Fuck.” 

He pushed in faster, more insistently, tightening his grip in Keith’s hair until it was painful. Keith screwed his eyes shut and tried to breathe through it, but his jaw had begun to hurt and Dylan began to shove himself deeper for longer amounts of time, and it made it hard to catch his breath. 

“Stick your tongue out, stick your tongue out,” Dylan gasped. Keith did, and he shut his eyes as Dylan began to jack himself off in his face, cursing all the while. “Oh God, fuck, fuck,  _ fu-uck.”  _

Keith winced as something warm spurted against his face, landing on his tongue, his nose, even on his eyes. He felt annoyed and frustrated, like he’d been used, but that didn’t make any sense. He didn’t want to ruin things, didn’t want to risk Dylan getting angry and going away. So he stayed quiet and waited for Dylan to be done before standing up. 

His knees hurt. His jaw felt sore. A salty, sour taste stayed in his mouth. 

Dylan pulled him in by the back of his neck, planting a kiss on his forehead before sighing. “Baby, you were so good. That was amazing. I can’t believe that was the first time you’ve done that.” 

Keith managed a weak laugh then pulled away gently. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom to brush my teeth and clean my face. I’ll be right back.” 

He pulled away, wiping his eyes with his sleeve so he could see where he was going. Bile threatened to come up his throat, but he shoved it down. 

Once he was in the bathroom, he collapsed over the sink and tried to push away the sensation of feeling dirty. He tried to wash it away with the bubbles that covered his face as he washed it with three pumps of soap. He tried to wash it away with each scrub of his tooth brush, with the taste of mouthwash. 

But he couldn’t. 

He shook his head and played a test of his ringtone on his phone at full volume. It was unlikely that Dylan would hear it, but he stayed there, imagining a fake conversation. 

_ Keith, we’re heading home early! We’re about an hour out. Get ready so we can go to dinner to celebrate Takashi’s final choice! Sure hope no one else is home. _

He walked out, channeling his frustration and discomfort into fake panic. 

“My foster parents are coming back early,” he said the second he opened the door to the room. Dylan was sprawled on the bed, shock immediately coating his features. “They wanna go to dinner because Shiro chose a school, and they’re gonna be here soon. You gotta go before they get here and I need to clean up.” 

“Fuck, okay. Okay, let me just get my shoes.” Dylan got up and pulled on his shoes and his sweater. Keith grabbed the pizza box and insistently nudged Dylan out of his room. They hurried downstairs, and Dylan took the box from him. “I can take this,” he said. “Hey, look at me.” 

Keith froze to look at him. 

“Remember, it’s you and me against the universe, okay? They don’t get you, and they don’t know what it is to fight for someone.” He leaned in to kiss Keith softly, tasting of garlic and marinara. “But you have me. I… I love you, Keith.” 

Keith froze, unable to say anything as Dylan hurried back to his truck and left quickly. Shocked, numb, and tired, Keith closed the door and headed back to his room. 

He couldn’t wrap his head around it all. The dirtiness he felt clashed with the disbelief he felt about Dylan’s confession, and he didn’t know which to handle first. He felt exhausted. Part of him wanted to pretend the last hour hadn’t happened. He still felt the ghost of Dylan’s hand against his shoulder, pushing him down. The words echoed in his head until they stopped making sense. 

With slow movements, Keith managed to shove his shirt into the washer, then he went to his room and got into bed, hoping sleep could overtake him quickly so he could just stop thinking. 

***

The Shiroganes returned Sunday evening. Keith was still in his room, eating chips in bed while watching a sitcom on his phone. 

He heard his door open, but he didn’t turn to look at who it was. He was afraid it would be written on his face. That he wished they hadn’t left him. That he lied. That he did something that left him feeling dirty, and he couldn’t figure out why. 

“Hey, Keith. Have you had dinner yet?” Shiro. Keith managed a shake of his head. “Well, if you’re hungry, we brought some takeout.” With a sigh, Keith got up from bed, swiping away another message from Dylan. Shiro stopped him with light fingers on his arm, and Keith tensed. “Hey. Were you okay over the weekend?” 

Keith only responded with a steady stare before pulling away and heading for the stairs. 

Makoto and Aiko were at the table, setting up plates and the food they’d gotten. They stopped talking when they saw Keith. 

“Hey, Keith,” Makoto said. “Feel free to grab whatever you want.” 

He nodded and sat down, scooping up the food before shoveling it into his mouth, keeping his eyes on his plate. The conversation felt forced and it made Keith want to rip his hair out. He was so tired of feeling like a nuisance. Like his very presence was too much to deal with. He wished they’d just send him back already. 

Dylan’s words fluttered to the front of his mind again. 

These foster parents didn’t understand him. Didn’t know what it meant to fight for him. Keith couldn’t trust them. The only person who really knew him was Dylan. 

Dylan loved him.

Keith finished his food and stood up. He put his plate in the sink and went back to his room, pulling out his phone. 

Dylan had messaged a few times, asking what he was doing then a few question marks when Keith didn’t respond. The last message was  _ are you mad???  _

He stared at the screen for a long time, scrolling up at all the messages Dylan had sent. He got to the ones he’d sent before Dylan stayed with him and felt the guilt in his chest turn icy. His own words stared back at him, reminding him that  _ he  _ was the one who’d wanted to try more. He had no reason to feel like Dylan had coerced him; he’d already consented. So it was fine, and it was unfair of Keith to leave him without an answer. 

The thought only managed to lessen the disgusting feeling in the pit of his stomach by a fraction. Even so, he began to type out a response. 

_ Sorry. I’m not mad just that the fosters kept dragging me places and i couldn’t answer w/o Shiro over my shoulder. See you in school tomorrow. Miss you. _

He put his phone to charge then went to take a shower so he could go to bed.

The next day, Dylan caught up to Keith in the middle of the day and pulled him aside in the hallway. 

“Hey, angel,” he said. “Left me high and dry all weekend, huh?” He arched an eyebrow and placed a hand on Keith’s chin to tilt his face toward him. 

“I- Sorry,” Keith said with a frown. “Are you mad?” 

Dylan shrugged. “I get it. I just thought you were mad about what we did or something. But you wanted to, right?” 

Keith felt his answer lodge in his throat, so he just nodded and tried to give a weak smile. 

“Cool,” Dylan said. “So, me and the guys are gonna go tag up this building that’s been abandoned for a while near downtown. Come with us?” 

“You want me to skip again?” Keith stepped back and looked at the hall where his next class was. “Dyl, I can’t miss my classes. Besides, downtown? There’s no way we’d get back in time for dismissal, and then Shiro’s gonna get on my ass about it.”

Dylan rolled his eyes and turned away. “Yeah, guess it’s always something. Alright. I’ll see you later then. Managed to go without hearing from you all weekend, what’s another day?” He walked the other way, and Keith felt himself deflate. 

He turned to follow after him, grabbing him by the wrist to stop him. Dylan snatched away, but Keith stepped in front of him. “Dylan, hey. Hey.” Dylan looked down at him, expectant. “You’re the one who said this was like some… forbidden romance, right? Well, forbidden romances aren’t easy.” 

“I know. But this stuff is important to me. My art is important, and I want to share it with you, but you…. It feels like you don’t give a shit, and that’s fine, just-” 

“That’s not true!” Keith clenched his jaw and ignored the handful of students who looked his way while they walked to the next class. “Okay. Okay, fine, I’ll go with you, but after this we gotta talk about this skipping thing. Alright?” 

“Don’t come if you don’t want to, Keith.” 

“Hey. That’s angel to you,” Keith said with narrowed eyes. “And I do want to. It just can’t be a habit or I’m gonna get into serious shit, okay?” Dylan didn’t seem convinced, so Keith pulled him down into a kiss. “Let’s get out of here.”

Dylan smiled and took his hand. They walked with the rest of the students, taking the usual route to get away from the school. The bell rang before they could get past the TB’s, but they managed to hide away before any teachers noticed them. Once it was clear, they ran to the parking lot where the rest of Dylan’s friends were waiting by his truck and another car. 

Thomas greeted Keith with a grin from Dylan’s truck bed. Adrian was smoking a cigarette, and muttered something about tardiness. Ricardo was sitting inside the other car with the door open, laughing about something they’d been talking about. Michael had Jonathan on his lap, but Jonathan kept checking his phone. 

“Guys we got about three minutes before Ms. Atkins comes out to scan the hallways, and I really don’t need all-day detention again,” he said. 

“Yeah, let’s head out,” Dylan said. “Who’s riding with me?” 

Thomas lifted his hand and hopped out of the truck bed. 

“I’m following you so let’s get inside before they come checking the parking lot. She can’t see us leaving,” Michael said. 

“Keep watch, Jonathan. You let us know when we’re good to go,” Dylan said. He nudged Keith into the truck while Thomas got into the backseat. 

They’d only been inside their respective vehicles for about thirty seconds before Keith saw someone stroll out from the school to the parking lot. Dylan yanked him down so he couldn’t be seen through the windows. 

“I take it you guys do this way too often,” Keith said. 

“We just did our research,” Thomas said from the back. “Jonathan’s typing by the way.” 

Sure enough, a few moments later, Thomas and Dylan’s phones pinged with a message. Jonathan must have deemed it safe to go. Without wasting another second, Dylan sat up and started the truck. He pulled out of the parking lot and left the school with Michael’s car trailing behind them. 

The scenery of the city changed the further they got from the school. It became shabbier, more local shops rather than big name companies. More graffiti too. 

“Is this why you guys have to go so far for your graffiti?” Keith asked. “You’re looking for the places where it’ll blend in anyway.” 

“Kinda. We want ours to stand out,” Thomas said. “But yeah, we can’t exactly tag up anything near the school. They’d cover that shit up by the next day.” 

“Downtown though, that’s where the good graffiti goes. Not just letters making out misspelled words, but the kind of graffiti that should be in a museum,” Dylan said. “You’ll see.” 

Keith tried to shake the worry of what would happen if he didn’t get back to class in time, but it settled in the back of his mind anyway. 

They had to park at the edge of the street, and Keith realized the place was vaguely familiar. He was pretty sure one of his past foster families used to live in the area. The thought alone was enough to sour Keith’s mood further, but then Dylan took his hand as they walked, and he decided to focus on that instead. 

There was a building that was boarded up, nearly all but the front demolished. The place was tucked away enough that there didn’t seem to be heavy foot traffic or patrol cars, but the idea of being there still made Keith anxious. He wasn’t sure if graffiti warranted a ticket. 

He kept eyeing the time on his phone as the guys talked over each other and worked on different personal art pieces. Dylan’s looked like an angel silhouette, and Keith wondered if it was another meant for him. Adrian and Michael worked together to make a monster’s face with cartoonish eyes. Jonathan busied himself with providing certain colors and stuffing the unused ones back into a duffel bag. Thomas made the face of a saint. A woman with a melancholic face. 

“Who is that?” Keith asked. 

“Virgen de Guadalupe. My mom’s named after her, so I paint her wherever I can. Especially if I’ve got artist block or if I’m worried about something.” 

“So which are you this time?” Thomas hummed in confusion. “Blocked or worried?” 

Thomas grinned and looked at his artwork. “I just think she’s pretty. So, you interested in learning too, or nah?” 

“You mean how to make graffiti?” Keith asked. “No. No way. I can’t even make a decent circle.” 

Thomas laughed and shrugged as he pulled out a pack of candy from his jeans pocket. He bit down on a Twizzler and offered Keith one, but he declined it. “So what are  _ you  _ worried about, Keith?” Keith furrowed his eyebrows, and Thomas gestured at his phone. “You keep checking it.” 

“Oh. Just…. I need to be sure I get back to school in time so Shiro doesn’t realize I’m gone. He’s given me shit about hanging out with Dylan before, and I just don’t want any lectures.” 

“Takashi Shirogane? The basketball player?” Keith shrugged. He wasn’t entirely aware of Shiro’s personal activities. “What’s he care?” 

“He’s… my foster brother,” Keith explained. He thought Dylan would’ve told them. “I can’t stand him.” 

“Why? Is he mean to you or something? You know we can rough him up if we have to,” he said, playfully punching the air. 

“Well, no, but-” 

“Angel, you wanna go ahead and head back to school? We gotta beat the rush hour. Thomas can head back with Michael.” Dylan went up to Keith and put his arm around his shoulders. “We might even make it with time to spare.” 

Thomas kept chewing on his candy, turning his attention to the other three guys. Keith nodded and huddled into Dylan, absorbing his warmth. Dylan led him back where they’d come from, barely letting Keith manage a goodbye to the others over his shoulder. Thomas responded with a two-fingered salute and a smile while the others barely paid any attention, too wrapped up in their own conversation. 

“Thanks for coming today, angel.” 

“Of course. Next time, let’s just… make it at a time where I won’t miss three classes, please.” Dylan laughed and kissed his temple. “I liked the angel you made, by the way.” 

“Guess I had inspiration,” Dylan said with his wolfish grin. 

Once they got to the truck, Keith finally let himself relax. He had plenty of time to get back to school. Once they got on the highway, Dylan lifted the center glove compartment and tugged Keith’s arm so he’d move in closer. Keith happily obliged and huddled against his side. 

“Does this all mean you love me, Keith?” 

The question startled Keith, but he smiled to himself and pressed a kiss to Dylan’s cheek. “Yeah. I do.” 

Dylan’s smile grew and he pulled Keith’s face toward his by the chin, planting a deep kiss on his lips. Keith nearly forgot he was driving. 

“Give me your hand,” Dylan said softly. Keith put his hand in one of Dylan’s while the other maneuvered the steering wheel. 

Instead of holding it, Dylan pulled Keith’s hand by the wrist to the button of his jeans. 

“Unzip me,” he whispered. Keith froze and stared at him, not fully comprehending. Dylan laughed and pinched his cheek briefly. “Relax. No roadhead. Too many cars around for that. I want you to use your hand.” 

“You’re driving. I don’t think it’s a good idea.” 

“What, you don’t trust me?” Keith frowned at him and Dylan laughed. “Come on, angel. We’re on the highway, it’ll be fine. I just missed your touch.” 

Swallowing his apprehension Keith unbuttoned and unzipped him. At least he didn’t need to use his mouth. Dylan put his hand over Keith’s and motioned for him to rub. He was warm, and Keith tried not to think too much about how awkwardly his arm was positioned, or how he had never done this before, or how long until they got to school again. 

“Pull my cock out,” Dylan said in a low voice. 

Keith clenched his jaw and pushed his hand under Dylan’s briefs, shoving the fabric aside. The shock felt the same as the first time he’d seen it. Again, he ignored it and focused on simply moving his hand. 

“Just like that,” Dylan breathed. “A little faster.” For each command, Keith simply did as he was told. It was easier than overthinking and hesitating. “God, Keith. You’re so good at this.” Keith noticed he’d begun to speed up, but it wasn’t too much. “Don’t be scared, angel. Come on.” 

Uncertainly, Keith kept following instructions, noticing the way his jaw clenched, the way his hand tightened on the steering wheel. He must be close. Keith sped up, and Dylan pitched forward slightly before regaining control. 

So close to all of it being over. He just wanted it over. 

Without a warning, white spurts dirtied his hand, splattering against Dylan’s shirt and jeans and Keith’s sleeve. 

“Fuck. Sorry. Fuck,” Dylan said through clenched teeth. “Keep going a little bit.” Keith clenched his jaw, but continued. “Just- just like that.  _ Oh, shit.”  _ Dylan let out a low breath, but never took his eyes off the road ahead. He twitched slightly before pushing Keith’s hand away. “I fucking love you, Keith.” 

“Me too,” Keith said softly, hoping his voice didn’t betray the return of that strange guilt and frustration. 

Dylan fumbled a bit to fix his clothes, before finding a crinkled napkin tucked into the side of his door. He gave it to Keith to clean off what he could then put his arm around him and pulled him in close. “I’m so lucky I met you,” he said. 

It made Keith smile. He pressed the side of his face into Dylan’s chest, inhaling the scent of his cologne. “I’m the lucky one,” he answered. 

It only took a few more songs before they pulled into the school parking lot with about twenty minutes to spare. 

“Hey. Can I try something for you?” Dylan asked. Keith furrowed his eyebrows. “I just… feel like I keep getting satisfaction from you, and I’m not giving you anything.” Before Keith could say no or come up with an excuse, Dylan had his hand against the button of his jeans. “You trust me, right?” 

Keith swallowed and nodded. 

“Okay. Sit against the door.” Keith shifted, silently obeying. Dylan pulled at his jeans, smiling as he shifted in his seat, lowering himself to hover over Keith’s crotch. “It’s kind of hot to know I’m the first and only one who does this for you. Who makes you feel fantastic.” 

Keith opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Dylan had ducked his head and began to mouth at him through his boxers. 

The sensation was so warm, so  _ new.  _ Keith let his head fall back against the window and let out a sigh. The guilt was still there in his chest, but it was overpowered by that urge to chase pleasure. Besides, this was his boyfriend. This was okay. 

Keith shifted and stifled a gasp into his jacket as Dylan used his hand to pull him out, then pressed his tongue against him. A high pitched sound reverberated in his throat, making him blush, but Dylan didn’t seem to mind. 

Nervously, Keith spared a glance at the school building. It was clear. He checked the clock. They had time. He screwed his eyes shut, unable to stop the pants falling from his mouth as Dylan swirled his tongue. 

“D-Dylan, I’m gonna-” 

“Do it.” 

Two seconds later, Keith felt the pressure that had been building up finally burst. He let his eyes roll back and tried to catch his breath. The guilt slammed into him, multiplied. He covered his face and forced himself to ignore it, at least until he was alone. 

“I was right,” Dylan said. Keith peeked through his fingers. “Your face when you come is sexy.” 

Despite the laugh he responded with, Keith couldn’t help the heavy feeling of uncertainty in his chest. “I should go,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Dylan nodded, and Keith tried to make himself decent again. Before he could leave the car, the locks clicked into place. “Dyl-” 

“Give me a kiss.” 

Keith turned back to him with a sigh, smiling as he leaned in. The taste on Dylan’s lips was unpleasant, but Keith figured he had no room to complain. “Love you,” Keith said. 

“Love you more,” Dylan answered. He unlocked the truck and Keith finally got out, embracing the cold wind with relief. 

He shouldered his backpack and walked back to the school, not even caring if someone saw him. He hurried into a restroom and immediately turned on the faucet, washing his hands with the water as hot as the school let it get and several pumps of cheap, foamy soap. He splashed his face and tried to let his body feel like his own. 

He didn’t understand why he felt all of this guilt. If it felt good, if it was with his boyfriend, if everyone did this stuff anyway, why did it bother him? He hadn’t grown up religious. He had nothing to prove to anyone. No one to disappoint. So where did the panic come from, and why did it settle so strongly? 

He paced the bathroom in frustration, waiting until the final bell. When the announcements above him released the car-riders, he blended into the rest of the students and made his way outside. Shiro was waiting by a pillar, and he only gave Keith a nod as they walked to the car. 

Keith had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts, that it took until Shiro spoke for him to realize they weren’t heading home their usual way. 

“What’s it gonna take for you to trust me?” Keith looked around then looked at Shiro. He ignored the question and tried to figure out where they were. “Keith, I saw you. I saw you with him, and I saw you leave the school.” Keith turned to look at the window, refusing to acknowledge Shiro’s claim. “I told you that Dylan isn’t someone you should be getting involved with, Keith.” 

Keith didn’t speak, but he made a point of scoffing and turning further away. 

Without another word, Shiro pulled into a gas station and parked. “If I see you with him again, I’m telling our parents, Keith.” Keith whipped his head around to look at Shiro in shock. “I don’t want to do that to you, but if you don’t stay away, I won’t have a choice! You think I’m just saying this to be a pain in the ass? I’ve been surrounded by these people since grade school, trust me when I tell you I know who’s decent and who’s not.” Keith narrowed his eyes at him, feeling his face heat up in anger. “Don’t make that face at me. If you have something to say, then say it.” 

Rather than using words, Keith lifted his middle finger and turned away from him. 

“I’m just trying to protect you,” Shiro insisted. 

He wasn’t sure why, but that’s what made him snap. 

“I don’t  _ need  _ you to protect me!” Keith shouted. “I’ve been fine fending for myself for years, and it’s not any different now. Stay the fuck out of my life.” 

His outburst managed to shock Shiro enough that he stayed quiet for a few seconds before scoffing. “Well look at that, Little Mermaid got her voice back. I can’t just stay out of your life, okay? Because I’m your brother-”

“Oh fuck you. You’re nobody!” Keith yelled, finally looking at him. “You’re some guy I gotta room with, but you are  _ not  _ my brother. And I don’t need or want your protection.”

Shiro grimaced and jerked back like Keith had hit him. “Well... that sucks for you. God, why are you so obsessed with this guy anyway? You don’t even know him, you don’t know-”

“I know he’s the only one who knows me and the only one I trust and that he loves me and would never hurt me!” 

Shiro stared at him in shock, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. “He’s eighteen, Keith. Did you know  _ that _ ? Did you know that if you’re involved with him, even if you think it’s consensual, it’s statutory rape? Can you get that through your thick, fifteen-year-old skull?” 

Confusion melted away Keith’s rage. If Dylan was a junior, then he had to be sixteen or seventeen. Not eighteen. “That’s…. Three years is nothing-” 

“He’s almost nineteen, Keith. He flunked a grade and had to repeat. He’s too old for you. You are a child. He is legally an adult. If he touches you, if he does anything to you-”

“You’re lying.” By now Keith didn’t have the conviction from earlier. He just knew he had to keep talking, had to be right. “You’re full of shit. How would you even know-” 

“Because I dated him, Keith! Because I dated him my sophomore year, and it was shit, and he was shit, and-” Shiro sighed and rubbed his face. Keith suddenly had the urge to throw up. There was no way his Dylan had been involved with  _ Shiro  _ in any way. “Dylan is not a good guy, Keith. He doesn’t know what it means to care about someone. I don’t want you getting hurt. I don’t want this guy getting in your head and….” Shiro sighed. “You can keep hating me, and you can keep ignoring me. Just stay away from him.” 

Keith had nothing left in his to respond. He just turned away and tried to keep his rage contained and his bile down. Everything else suddenly felt so much dirtier.

Once it was clear to Shiro that Keith planned to stay silent again, he sighed and left the gas station. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t wanna tell you like that. I didn’t wanna come off as some jealous ex, so I figured I just wouldn’t bring it up. Then…. Look, I’m not gonna out you okay? But I’m gonna keep looking out for you. For as long as you live with us, you’re my foster brother. Whether you like it or not.” 

***

For a week, Keith managed to evade Dylan and his posse. He didn’t answer calls or texts. He stayed near the teacher, keeping himself busy in theatre class. During lunch, he would stay in a teacher’s classroom, claiming he needed to study and catch up on assignments. 

Of course, it was a relatively small school with limited paths to classes, and Dylan had long since learned his class schedule. It wasn’t long before he’d caught up to him. He pulled him aside in the hallway and shuffled him into the auditorium through the stage door. He had a way of moving so certainly that even doing something blatantly wrong, people assumed he was supposed to be doing it. No one followed them or questioned why they’d gone through the stage door. 

They were alone in the side wing, shrouded in darkness. 

Keith felt Dylan’s fingers digging into his arm, then felt himself lose his balance as he was shoved against the wall. 

“What the fuck, Keith?” 

“Get the fuck off me,” he spat, shoving Dylan back. 

“Why are you avoiding me? What the hell is this bipolar bullshit you’re on?” 

Keith stared at him, feeling a burning rage build up inside of him as he imagined his arms around Shiro. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me about Shiro?” 

That caused Dylan to step back. He cursed and ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck. I don’t know, man, because that shit lasted like a month? Because I don’t give a fuck about him? God, see I knew he would get in your head and split us up, Keith. I knew it. You lied to me, you said you wouldn’t let him-”

“ _ I lied?”  _ Keith spat. He walked forward, shoving Dylan back until he was against the curtains. “You’re the one who lied to me. How old are you, Dylan?” 

In the limited light, he could see Dylan’s face harden. “Eighteen.” Keith raised an eyebrow. “Nineteen next month.” 

“God this is so fucked,” Keith spat, turning away from him. 

He felt Dylan grip his wrist, so easily wrapping his entire hand around it and squeezing so hard that it was impossible to break free. “Look, I know how it sounds, okay? But what does that matter? What does three or four years matter when we’re twenty or thirty?” Keith shook his head and struggled to free his hand. Instead, Dylan yanked him around harder, crowding up against him with a desperate look in his eyes. “I love you so much, Keith. I’ve never felt the things I feel with you. You were new here, after the school year started, by the time I knew you were a freshman, I was already…. You just act so much older and it’s amazing and it’s not fair because life screwed you over and made you grow up too fast, but….” He fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around Keith’s hips. “Please. Please don’t leave me. I’ll never hide anything from you again. You’re everything to me, Keith. It’s you and me against the universe, right?” 

Dylan held on so tightly, and his voice shook in a way Keith had never heard before. He’d never had anyone so afraid of losing him. Frankly, Keith had also fallen in love with him, and cutting him off hurt in a way that he’d sworn he wouldn’t let himself feel again. With Dylan pleading on his knees for him to stay, Keith felt his resolve breaking further. He didn’t want to let go of Dylan either. Not because of a number. Not because Shiro thought he knew what was better. 

“You can never lie to me again, Dylan. Ever.” 

“I swear, angel, never.” He pulled himself back onto his feet and cupped Keith’s face. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Well, we have a problem still,” Keith said. Dylan frowned. “Shiro said if he sees us together he’s telling his parents. You could go to jail, Dyl.” 

“Fucking dick,” Dylan growled. He shut his eyes as he thought, and Keith took the moment to rest his forehead against his chest. “Okay, we’ll have to be more careful about being seen, but… we can do things after school. Say you’re staying for student council or something and you can get dropped off by the bus or something.” 

“And weekends? How am I supposed to get away to see you?” 

Dylan stroked his cheek gently. “Alright. Alright, okay. There’s the sports games and dance and theatre, they all have weekend meetings sometimes. But if they don’t see you playing or something, I don’t know….” Keith groaned. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.” Slowly, Dylan’s hand moved to grab his chin and tilt his head up to look at him. “But Keith… don’t ignore me like that again. Avoiding me, not answering my texts? It makes me feel like a fucking idiot.” 

“I’m sorry,” Keith said, putting his hand on Dylan’s wrist so his hold could loosen. “I was angry. And I thought it was over. I promise I won’t do that again. Now… could you just kiss me?” 

Dylan nodded and leaned in, pressing his lips against Keith’s, reclaiming him hungrily as if to tell the universe that it couldn’t keep them apart. Meanwhile, Keith basked in the overwhelming feeling of being wanted and needed to the point of being fought for, pleaded for. It all left him breathless. 

***

Ever since their conversation at the gas station, Shiro had softened around Keith. He gave him his space. It felt like there was more distance there, but Keith didn’t understand why it felt so sharp suddenly. 

A month had passed since Keith had strengthened his bond with Dylan. While he couldn’t be seen with him in school, he hung out with Thomas. He seemed to be the kind of person who was friendly with everyone, and Keith had seen Shiro talking to him once, which meant he was probably safe to hang out around without raising suspicion. 

Occasionally, he acted as a sort of messenger between him and Dylan, letting Keith know when they would be hanging out and where, telling him when Dylan wanted to cut theatre class. For the most part though, Thomas was just nice company to have around. He didn’t have to hide things from him and he didn’t have to hide him from anyone else. 

“Listen, I know it gets a bad rep, but Nickelback isn’t that bad!” Thomas said with a laugh. 

Keith grimaced and narrowed his eyes. “I’m sorry, but I disagree.” 

“Maybe it’s just a fond memory, so I defend them. When I was younger my dad would play his CD in the car all the time. Or he’d work on the car in the garage and it would be playing from a stereo. I learned all the songs and sang them with him.” 

“Well that’s really sweet,” Keith said. “I didn’t take you for a singer.” 

“Yeah, well. I’m not great, but I enjoy it. Here, I know one that is pretty different from their usual sound and it’s my favorite, at least give it a try, okay?” 

Keith sighed, but nodded and shifted closer to share the earbuds. Thomas scrolled through his music library and started a song called  _ Lullaby.  _

Maybe it was because of the importance it had for Thomas, but Keith found himself looking for reasons to like it. He agreed it was relatively different, both in sound and lyrics. He could hear Thomas whispering the lyrics under his breath, and when he noticed Keith looking, he sang a little louder, a little playfully until Keith rolled his eyes and smirked. 

“Alright. This one’s good, I’ll admit,” Keith said. Thomas grinned triumphantly. The bell rang, alerting them to the end of lunch, and they got up to go into the hallway. “Hey, what grade are you anyway?” 

“Sophomore,” Thomas said. “Oh, and we’re planning to meet up after school today. Dylan wants you to come.” 

“Yeah, sounds good. I’ll just send Shiro a text that I’m staying after for something. I’ll see you later then?” Thomas nodded and headed off to a different hallway. 

He only had two more classes to get through before he could see Dylan again. By the end of the day, Keith was already rushing from his hall to get to the bus exit that would let him find the others in the parking lot. 

But Shiro was there too, and called Keith’s name before he could get far. “What are you doing in the performing arts hall?” Keith arched an eyebrow, silently throwing the question back at him. “Charlie, this is my brother Keith. Keith, this is my friend Charlie. He’s in choir.” Shiro’s gaze went to the bus route exit. “I thought you said you were staying after today?” 

Keith nodded and gestured vaguely, hoping some relevant door was behind him. 

Shiro scoffed and looked at him incredulously. “You joined  _ dance?”  _

Son of a bitch. 

“I hear Mrs. Viola is pretty harsh. How’s that going?” Charlie asked. 

“He doesn’t talk much,” Shiro explained. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see when the dance team performs at the next rally or something.” He stared at Keith, challenging him and teasing him all at once, but Keith stayed quiet. “Well? Don’t keep Mrs. Viola waiting, Keith.” 

With a huff, Keith turned around and saw the open door for the dance class. He steeled himself and walked in, immediately feeling out of place when he saw everyone else around him look in his direction. Mostly girls. They were all in leggings or sweats, their hair tied up. 

“Can I help you?” The sharp voice made Keith turn around and he gulped when he saw the woman in front of him. She was small, but her expression told him not to underestimate her. She looked at him curiously, waiting for him to speak. 

“Um. I was wondering what I had to do to… join.” 

She looked him over and frowned. “You have any dance experience?” Keith shook his head. “Don’t pull my leg, kid.” 

“The principal said it would help if I joined some after school stuff. I was just asking around. It’s fine. I’m sorry.” He laughed nervously and checked the hallway as discreetly as possible. It was mostly empty. Shiro didn’t seem to be anywhere. 

He raced out of that hellhole and slipped out of the bus ramp exit. He made his way to the parking lot, shaking off his embarrassment. The group was already there, standing by their separate cars. As usual, Thomas rode with him and Dylan. They kept exchanging songs, playing them on the speaker in turns and singing along when they knew the one the other suggested. 

This time they were at a skating park. There was an abandoned ramp near the fence full of potholes and graffiti tags. 

All the guys immediately claimed a part of the ramp as their canvas and set to work, leaving Keith to sit back and watch as he drank an Arizona tea and listened to inside jokes he didn’t get. 

After a while, Thomas walked over to him, leaving his section half done. 

“Not in the mood to finish?” Keith asked. 

“Well, I feel kinda bad being over there then seeing you kind of spacing out here.” 

“I’m cool. I’m chilling.” 

Thomas hummed and opened a bag of chips. “Well, I could use a break from the fumes anyway. This mask is so uncomfortable.” He pulled off the mask he was wearing to stifle the spray paint odor and Keith couldn’t help but laugh. 

“You’ve got lines all over your face now. Why do you wear it so tightly?” 

“Keith, come on, I should get you back to school,” Dylan said flatly, standing up in front of them. Keith hadn’t even noticed him walk over. 

“What? We’ve been here for like twenty minutes, what do you-”

“Would you just get up?” he snapped. 

Keith narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms, planting himself further. Before he could say anything, Dylan leaned over and gripped his arm, yanking him up with ease.

“Man, what the fuck?” 

“Dylan, dude, ease up,” Thomas said, standing to follow. 

Dylan turned around, rearing his arm back to land a solid hit to Thomas’ face. The moment Keith moved to check on him, Dylan yanked him back. “I fucking knew you’d try some shit. You’ve had an eye on him since he got to the school. Trying to pull shit right under my fucking nose.” 

“Puta madre, cabron, what the fuck are you talking about?” Thomas shouted, wiping the blood that had sprouted from his lip. The other guys had walked over, but the damage was done. Jonathan helped Thomas up while Dylan dragged Keith away, and Keith could only look at his friend, trying to convey how much he wanted to help. 

Once the shock wore off and he could think, he pushed Dylan away, pulling free in spite of the way it hurt. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” They were at his truck by then, and Keith didn’t care about making a scene. Not after what Dylan had just done. 

“With me? Seriously? You go around flirting with him all around school, right in front of me, in front of my  _ friends,  _ and I’m the one who’s being an asshole?” 

“I’m not flirting with him!” Keith shouted. Dylan smacked his teeth and shoved Keith toward the car, otherwise ignoring him to get into the truck. “We’re friends, and he’s kind of the only one I’m free to talk to without being watched like a hawk okay?” 

“Get in the fucking truck.” 

“Fuck you,” Keith said, turning away. Even if he had to hitch a ride with the others or even call Shiro to get him, he wasn’t planning to go anywhere with Dylan when he was like this. 

He didn’t make it very far before he heard a door slam and soon after felt arms wrap around his middle, pulling him off the ground and dragging him back. 

“What the fuck, what are you doing? Let me down, this is bullshit!” Dylan easily maneuvered him with one arm, using the other to haphazardly open the passenger door. He threw Keith inside without any regard and Keith only felt his head hit the roof of the car, shocking him into stillness. 

Dylan shut the door, leaving Keith to rub his head in confusion while he went around to the driver’s side. He drove away with Keith still numb and quiet, but quickly pulled into some random dead-end street to park. 

“I can’t believe you’d humiliate me like this,” Dylan spat. “After everything we’ve been through, after the shit I do for you, you wanna throw me aside for  _ him?”  _

“I  _ wasn’t  _ doing anything bad,” Keith insisted with a tremor in his voice. “He just wanted to keep me company-”

“He just wants to fuck you. And you’d probably let him.” 

Now he was just reaching for things. For ridiculous things. “You hurt me,” Keith muttered, staring at the dashboard. 

“You were being a brat, that’s not my fault,” Dylan hissed. Keith felt tears fill his eyes despite how hard he tried to keep them back. To let all his emotions fuel into the anger he had a right to feel instead of this sense of hurt and betrayal. “Fuck. Keith, listen to me.” His voice had turned softer. He reached out to cup Keith’s face, but Keith pulled away. “Please.”

“I want to go home.” 

Dylan nodded. “I’ll take you home. Just let me talk first, alright?” Keith didn’t respond. “Do you know how much it hurts to see in school and not be able to touch you? To be with you? All because we might get caught? I want it to be me you’re talking to about your day at lunch. I want it to be me you’re listening to music with. It’s driving me crazy not to have you near, and I’m…. It looked like Thomas was trying to make a move. I mean, he’s closer to your age-” 

“I’m not trying to be with Thomas,” Keith said tiredly. “He’s just my friend. You shouldn’t have punched him.” 

“Can you please just. Try to understand me? I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you. It’s my biggest fear, and it just feels like everything is trying to separate us.” Keith shut his eyes and leaned against the window. “Here, come here.” Dylan shifted to get into the back seat and held a hand out for Keith. “Come with me,” Dylan said softly. His voice was back to that gentle one Keith was fonder of. 

Slowly, Keith moved to join him in the back seat, collapsing into his arms as they stretched out. 

“Where did you hit yourself?” 

Keith touched the side of his head, and Dylan leaned down to kiss it before gently massaging the spot. He did that for a while until Keith finally felt the tension leave him. With it came a sudden wave of tears that made him shake as he hid his face into Dylan’s chest. 

“Whoa, hey. Don’t cry, angel. I’m sorry.” Dylan tilted his face up, gently wiping away the tears. “I’m so sorry. I got jealous and I was stupid, I know. I’m sorry.” He kissed Keith gently and shook his head. “Don’t cry. I won’t do that again.” 

Keith managed to stop the tears in favor of breathlessness as Dylan kissed him. 

He let Dylan shift their positions until Keith was laying under him. His large hands roamed his body slowly, gently. 

“I love you, you know that?” Dylan murmured. Keith nodded. “And you love me?” Keith nodded again. “Can I show you how much I love you?” 

“What?” Keith stared at him uncertainly. 

Biting his lip nervously, Dylan blushed and nodded. “It’s not ideal, I know. If I could I’d… I’d do this on a bed with candles filling the room and music playing or something. But I…. I want you to know how much I love you. I want to be sure you don’t doubt it at all. I want to fix this.” He leaned down and kissed along Keith’s neck. “You love me right?”

“Yes, but-” 

“I know. I know you’re scared, but I can make it go away. Besides I think… I just want to be sure too. That you love me. That it was all in my head, you know?” 

“Um… okay. But… but we can stop if we need to, right?” Dylan nodded, a bright smile spreading on his face. “Just… be slow, okay, I’ve never… done this.” 

“I haven’t either.” Dylan kissed him softly. “I think it makes sense we’d be each other’s first.” 

Keith gulped and assumed that the way his hands began to shake and his heart pounded at the speed of a jackhammer was all because he was eager, because he was overwhelmed with love. 

He told himself that as Dylan undressed him in the backseat of his truck, telling him it was okay each time Keith tensed. He told himself that the love was enough to override the pain that his spit-covered fingers caused as they pushed inside of him clumsily. That the kisses he trailed along his neck and chest were enough to stifle the discomfort he felt in the lower half of his body. 

He winced as Dylan spit against him and licked his hand to tug at his cock before he pressed against him. 

“Um, wait, Dylan…. Are you sure this is enough?” 

“I mean…. I know it might still hurt at first. The stretch can be rough to get used to but… it’ll feel good. I promise,” Dylan said. “You wanna do this right?” 

An honest answer lodged in his throat. But he was already spread-legged and naked. Had already riled Dylan up with that hopeful face for this long. 

Dylan took his lack of response as a yes and slowly pushed into him. 

Immediately, the intrusion made Keith scrunch his face up in pain. It burned. It stung. It felt like he was being split open. He pushed against Dylan’s arms and tried to close his legs as feeble noises fell from his lips. 

“Angel, angel, you gotta relax, okay?”

“It hurts, it hurts, it hurts,” Keith hissed. “I can’t.” 

“Okay. Okay. Maybe a different position. It might be easier doggy-style.” 

Dylan pulled away slowly and turned Keith over, pulling his hips up in a way that made Keith wonder if this was really his first time or if he’d simply imagine this so much, he knew what he wanted. More spit fell against him, and Keith buried his embarrassment into his crumpled up shirt. 

It was easier for Dylan to push in, but it wasn’t painless. It wasn’t pleasurable. Keith bit down on his cheek and dug his fingers into the seat cushion. It must have been heaven for Dylan with the sounds falling from his mouth. Moans and gasps and reassurances that Keith was doing so good, that he felt warm and tight. His hips moved further, and though Keith pulled his hips away on instinct, Dylan kept him in place with his hands on his hips. 

As Keith let out stifled sobs and pained cries, he tried to focus on the steady caresses of Dylan’s hands and the warmth of the kisses he randomly pressed against his back. Eventually the pain became a long stream of familiarity, numb in its intensity. Or maybe Keith had simply managed to distract himself enough from it. Whatever the case, Dylan’s final grunts and the strange, sticky, hot sensation that filled him marked the end of it all. Keith willed his tears away, desperately craving a bath in scorching water. Craving the warmth of his clothes. 

Dylan shifted away and slowly pulled Keith back into his arms. “You okay?” Keith must have nodded. A kiss was pressed to his temple. “I love you so much, angel. You and me against the universe right?” Keith nodded again. “Let me take you home. Just enough time to drive back, I think.” 

The whole thing must have taken less than ten minutes. Keith focused on putting his clothes back on, ignoring the discomfort of the pain in his body and the stickiness around his thighs. Such a short time, but it felt like it was so much longer…. It felt so eternal. Keith rubbed his face, trying to ground himself again before slowly moving to sit in the front again. 

Dylan drove him back in silence, one hand interlocked with Keith’s. He stopped at Keith’s street corner where the bus would’ve dropped him off. 

Keith pulled the door handle, but the lock clicked into place just before he could. He looked at Dylan with a frown, wondering what he did wrong. 

“Hey. You’re not gonna ignore me again, are you?” 

“No, of course not.” 

Dylan furrowed his eyebrows and nodded. “Okay. I love you.” 

“I love you more,” Keith answered. He leaned in to kiss him, saying it with his entire being. “I love you so much more than you know.” He pulled away and unlocked the door, slowly getting out so it wouldn’t hurt. 

He waved as Dylan drove off then worked on making his walked as normal as possible as he passed the four houses before his own. 

When he walked in, Shiro was at the living room table doing homework. 

“How was dance?” he asked with a teasing lilt. 

Keith ignored him and steeled himself to go up the stairs quickly, making sure he expressed no emotion or pain until he was safe in the bathroom. He dropped his backpack, shed his clothes, and filled the tub with hot water. He couldn’t even look at his reflection. 

He just sunk in, imagining all the stress melting away with the searing heat. 

It was fine. All first times hurt on the receiving end. All boyfriends got jealous. But not everyone loved each other the way Keith and Dylan did. So it was all fine. 


End file.
